


Hurricane

by FormulaFerrari



Series: Crash Crash Burn [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Federal Agents, Character Death, Explicit Language, Ghosts, M/M, Major Tissue Warning, Major character death - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Self-Harm, Songfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Tissue Warning, alternative universe, implied eating disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-01-01 01:38:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 140,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormulaFerrari/pseuds/FormulaFerrari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The F-1 Elite try to thaw the enemy threat of the P-Orsche Organisation</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Uncovered, Unprotected, but Never Unwanted

**Author's Note:**

> This Fic is inspired by the song "Hurricane" by Thirty Seconds To Mars. I own no rights to this song or the band.
> 
> I will warn you that this is a MCD.
> 
> *14*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how many times that you told me you wanted to leave

Fernando was an ace with his sniper. That’s why he was located high above the action. He could see pretty much everything and everyone from his position. He rarely missed a shot and, to his recollection, he had only ever had seven missed shots. He played them back in his head whenever he had a free moment; remembering what he had done wrong and why. It made him better, stronger at his job. He was too important to make mistakes. A mistake compromised his position and those of his colleagues. It was too important he didn’t fuck up. He was secluded high up on a ledge and hidden within a bush. The wind was blowing harshly around him and he had positioned himself so the wind aided him, helping the bullets from his gun wedge into his target. It was accelerating. The moment of impact. The moment he realised he had done his job properly. The moment he knew there was one less enemy stalking after his fellow agents.

The F-1 elite was the highest rank an agent could obtain. Only twenty-two held the privilege, but that number was always decreasing; an agent would be killed in action and not be replaced or the squad would run out of investment. The elite organiser, General Ecclestone, was very selective with who was allowed in the elite and Fernando felt proud as he looked down at the red band around the strap of his bulletproof vest. The Red elite: a segment of the F-1 elite that everyone wanted to be part of. There was also the Bull, Silver, Laren and Black, elites each holding two field agents. The other elites (Toro, Force, SAU, White, Green and Cosworth) focused on strategy planning, medical and other elements of battle that could be run from HQ. The agents from the theory elites were always looking for opportunities to move into the field elites. There were many other agents within the elites, but General Ecclestone selected the main two for each elite, those of which from the field elites he took out to the field. Fernando relished in the fact that Lieutenant Domenicali and Major Di Montezemolo had put his name forwards. Ecclestone had been impressed observing Fernando in training and had been more than happy to welcome him to the F-1 elite. 

Fernando’s co-agent, Felipe, had almost been dropped last year. But in a determination to prove himself he had stupidly risked his life in order to bring success to the elite and Ecclestone had no means available to send him away. Fernando was happy that Felipe was still around; Felipe was very good at marking Fernando, making sure that he could fulfil his job successfully and he trusted Felipe to have his back. But he wasn’t showing that form again and Fernando was worried Felipe would get himself killed or dropped from the elite. The Red elite were already looking around for a replacement and Fernando hoped, if it couldn’t be Felipe, they would select Agent Two.

The Bull elite had got higher ranked numbers than the Red elite for two reasons. One, Ecclestone held a small competition between the elites, ranking them by who carried out the most kills or accomplished the most within missions. How he kept track of this, Fernando wasn’t sure – and he didn’t know if he wanted to find out either. And the second was funding that the Majors could bring to the elite. The Red elite, having been in the F-1 elite since the beginning (along with the Laren elite), had built themselves a respect and reputation of always being at their best. Major Di Montezemolo always managed to bring a comfortable fund to the elite, providing Fernando and Felipe with the top of the range equipment and best training facilities. However, recently the Bull elite’s Captain Marko had managed to find a very big investment that had put him and his elite firmly in Ecclestone’s pocket, meaning they had favourable treatment to the rest of the elites. 

Fernando looked down the viewfinder of his sniper and took out a rouge enemy that was heading towards Agent Five. He breathed out, satisfied as he watched the blood spurt from the man’s chest as he fell forwards onto the dusty ground, a pool of blood slowly surrounding him. Fernando lent back, surveying the area again. The darkness was being filled by the full moon and he was worried that the clear illumination would pick his black uniform out against the surrounding pale rocks. 

“Cheers, Agent Three, over, ” Agent Five’s voice spilled into his ears from his earpieces. Fernando smirked slightly at his casualness, as if he hadn’t been so close to being dead. So calm. It was how they had to be to get through this life. 

“That’s why I am here, to cover your back, over,” Fernando muttered back, looking back through the viewfinder and taking out the enemies sniper who had foolishly moved into view to stretch his legs. His limp body fell from his high position onto the hard ground below him with a thud. Fernando forced away the thoughts of his own vulnerable position in the brightening light. He would soon also be very visible.

“Focus please,” Lieutenant Domenicali’s voice burst into his ears. It was odd knowing that all of the elites could hear the words he was saying. Fernando preferred it when he exclusively worked for the Red elite; Agent Stella’s voice was a lot more comforting than the cold, stern tones of the Lieutenants and Majors. Agent Stella gave him his mission briefs and goals, setting him up with weapons and gadgets back at HQ. He preferred it when he came along to the missions, but a mission like this required as many higher ranks as they could afford, so Andrea had to be left behind. 

“Agent Three how is your position? Are you compromised? Over,” Domenicali finished as Fernando took out another enemy. 

“Not at the moment, but the light is getting bad, over,” Fernando turned over his shoulder to see Agent Four heading towards him frantically. His heavy footsteps were causing the dusty hilltop to throw small stones and dust into the air. Fernando was furious at his unsubtle movements; the position was too good to let it go so easily. Agent Four fell down next to him. “What are you doing?” Fernando whispered angrily at the Brazilian through his radio. Agent Four caught his breath before talking. 

“Agent Three? What’s happening?” Di Montezemolo stated calmly. The lack of emotion made Fernando feel disposable. He focused on Agent Four. 

“You’ve been spotted.” Agent Four breathed. “You’ve got forty-five seconds,” Fernando moved without thought. He knew everyone would now know their best sniper cover was lost and that would make everyone more cautious. Agent Four pushed himself up so Fernando could crawl into the shadows beside him to disassemble his sniper. He spun the muter easily off the end and disassembled the tripod, counting the seconds down in his head as he worked. With fourteen left, he slid the last part of the sniper onto his back and extracted his submachine gun, signalling to Agent Four to move. Just as they both dove into cover deep in the shadows of the bolder Fernando had been leaning on, machine gun fire filled the space where he was just standing. The sound of the ricocheting bullets off the surrounding rocks made Fernando’s nerves stand on edge, registering how close to death he had been. He breathed out, loading his Heckler & Koch UMP-9. 

“Agent Three, Agent Four, report over,” Montezemolo stated in a barking tone. 

“All clear, no negative, both clear over,” Agent Four called over the overpowering sound of fire that was surrounding them. 

“Is sniper cover accessible? Over”

“Negative,” Fernando answered, clicking his gun so the first bullets were ready to fire. “Permission to assist in the field? Over,”

“Granted. Agent Three, cover Two, Agent Four return to your post, over and out,” Montezemolo buzzed off, signaling to the agents to act on his words. Fernando fumbled for a moment with his tracker strapped to his wrist and located Agent Two. Once he had him, he realised Agent Four had already left and he departed himself, climbing slowly down the vulnerable steep of the hill. He caught a glimpse of Agent Four back at his post, hacking the enemies’ radio secluded in a cave of the rock face. Fernando met no one until he had reached the bottom of the hill and snuck up too easily on the enemy junior field agent, snapping his neck and watching him crumple to the ground with a swift twist of his head. Fernando tried not to think about how many of their own junior field agents had been killed through inexperience. But they were there to be disposed; that was how Ecclestone worked. The juniors were a distraction so the elites could get the job done. It was sick and twisted if you thought about it too much. But doing that was sure to get you killed. Fernando stepped into the abandoned cover of the now dead junior and looked back down at his tracker, trying to work out the best way to get to Agent Two. 

“Boy, am I glad to see you, mate, over,” Agent Two’s voice swirled in Fernando’s head and he looked up, trying to find the Australian. Fernando assumed he was also in cover, but it unnerved him that Agent Two could see him, thinking his cover was bad. He scrutinized his tracker. 

“Location? Over,” Fernando asked, turning slightly to take down another enemy junior whom assumedly and stupidly left his cover to find his dead friend. He crumpled against the wall as Fernando’s bullets filled him. Fernando crouched down.

“North north over,” Fernando looked up ahead of him to Agent Two’s invisible location. He could envision him crouched behind the flat rock that was facing Fernando in a very similar position to the one he himself had obtained. 

“The situation? Over,”

“A fuck load of crazy juniors who are scared shitless. They’re shooting anything that moves, over,”

“OK, I’ll cross left and cover from the side, you run forwards and cover ahead, over,” Fernando said, reloading. He took the small opportunity of quietness to dash from his cover and into the cover to the left he had spotted. “Clear, go now, over,” He called to Agent Two. He momentarily lost his thoughts as he saw Agent Two rush from behind his cover and run forwards, diving behind Fernando’s recent cover to protect himself from the crazy fire of the enemy juniors. The way his sleek body had cut across the darkening field and the way his muscles worked as he so gracefully turned to shoot down his attackers. Fernando scowled at himself. He wasn’t allowed to be thinking like that anymore. It made him too vulnerable. Too weak. Open to attack. To have any emotion connection to any of the other agents was strictly prohibited by Ecclestone and if anyone found out about his lustful thoughts for Agent Two he would most defiantly be kicked off the F-1 elite. Classed as corrupted. Classed as damaged. Classed as weak. He would never find any more work with those words labelling him. 

Fernando leant round from his cover and easily took out three juniors that were advancing on Agent Two. Agent Two. The formality of the use of his agent number helped Fernando to focus on that discipline he had forced himself to endure. In those quiet moments when all he wanted to do was imagine the possibilities. He had forced himself to shut off that part of his mind. It came so easily to him now. But that sense of protection for Agent Two still burned strongly in him, making him much better at his job. 

“It’s clear, I’m moving forwards, over,” Agent Two’s voice filled his head and Fernando fought briefly to remain focused. He locked down all other thoughts, keeping his mind in the battle. 

“Hold on, over,” Fernando said, leaning forwards towards Agent Two. He clocked the small pistol in his hand and with a brief check to his left he darted over to Agent Two and fell into cover beside him. Agent Two looked down at him, puzzled – the height difference between the two of them being reflected clearly as they sat. Fernando held out his Heckler & Koch UMP-9 to Agent Two and had to force it into his hands. 

“What are you doing? Over,” Lieutenant Horner’s voice sounded in Fernando’s ear. He was the one keeping a watch on them and had there back. Fernando would have preferred Domenicali or even the cruel calmness of Montezemolo more than this foreign voice. But that was what he had. He didn’t answer Horner. 

“Mate, you need it, over, ” Agent Two said, pushing the gun back towards Fernando, but Fernando refused it. He pulled out his shotgun and began to load it, ignoring both Agent Two and Lieutenant Horner. 

“I demand, as Lieutenant and highest ranking officer in command of your mission, that you tell me what you are doing, over!” Horner said through gritted teeth. It amused Fernando how he was playing the authority card and made him feel less obliged to respond. He wondered how Agent One and Two dealt with it – though he thought Agent One would probably thrived off it. The Bull elite catered mainly for Agent One’s needs anyway and Agent Two always had to adjust how he liked to work to fit Agent One’s style. Agent One was younger, so this was a little more erratic and full on than Agent Two liked. 

“He’s given me his gun, over,” Agent Two said, not taking his eyes off Fernando. 

“He needs it, he’s got no range with that pistol, over,” Fernando shrugged, indicating to his gun in Agent Two’s hands. Agent Two opened his mouth to argue. “I thought you would have had one with the funds Captain Marko brings to your sub-elite. Over,”

“Agent One needed a back-up. Over,” Horner’s voice said in a tone that meant he wasn’t going to explain himself anymore. Fernando felt anger bubble up inside him at the though of Agent One being given Agent Two’s weapon just in case. The favouritism in the Bull elite was too clear to go unnoticed. As Fernando went to speak again he caught sight of an enemy junior sneaking toward them. Fernando turned and place a perfectly positioned bullet in the enemy’s left temple, making his blood spurt out across the field and him fall to the ground. Fernando turned back to Mark.

“I’ll go up and cover you, you’ll need that to run, over,” Fernando said, looking deep into Agent Two’s eyes. Agent Two looked back on him before wrapping his arms tightly around Fernando. Fernando was shocked at first, but then had to focus solely on keeping his thoughts locked and not drifting off into the imagination and freedom his sleep brought him.

“Be careful, over,” Agent Two said, a little too intimately for Horner’s liking. He was worried that Agent Two was starting to loose his focus in general and this did nothing to help calm these suspicions. He knew Ecclestone had his eye on Agent Two. 

“Alright, Agent Three, move up. On his word, Agent Two, move forwards to cover Agent One who is about to embark on an attack northeast north, over. “ Horner’s words were clear and Fernando checked that they were still alone before crossing back to his cover on the left, leaving his submachine with Agent Two. He made a quick journey up to high cover that had been occupied by an enemy sniper before Fernando had taken him out earlier. He set up, putting his shot away, quickly and focused his viewfinder on the point he expected Agent Two to appear. 

“Check clear over,” Fernando said, waiting to see Agent Two appear in his viewfinder before he moved. But he didn’t. Fernando had calculated the journey time and Agent Two still hadn’t appeared. “Check clear over,” Fernando repeated. Still no movement. Fernando’s breath caught in his throat. 

“In position, over,” Agent Two’s voice said, but Fernando was panicking; he couldn’t see him.

“Wrong position I can’t cover you move forwards over,” Fernando said in one breath, trying to suppress the worry from his voice. 

“Negative, no more cover forward, over,” Agent Two said. Fernando’s eyes grew wide. 

“I can’t cover you. Negative on cover. You need to move forwards, over,”

“Next cover is too far open, can’t move, over,”

“You’ve got no cover-!”

“-Well he will have to be careful then!” Horner’s annoyed voice cut through. “Focus on covering Agent One if you want to cover, over” Fernando gritted his teeth, holding back the words he so wanted to say. He pulled back from his viewfinder and saw, just hidden under the base of his cover, the edge of Agent Two’s knee. Any sniper near would have an open shot; Agent Two wasn’t covered from above. Fernando pulled his eyes from Agent Two and saw Agent One running alone in the shadows. That was how good Fernando was. Anyone else wouldn’t have been able to spot him – Agent One was too good at stealth, moving from one place to another almost invisibly. But if Fernando were on the enemies side Agent One would now be dead. That’s how good he was. Fernando clocked the three gunners moving towards Agent One’s small group and turned his sniper to them, taking them all out easily. He watched Agent One descend into the shadows and out of his line of vision. His thoughts turned back to Agent Two.

“I have the next cover covered. Clear to move forward, over” Fernando called desperately as he scanned the area for other attackers. 

“Where is Agent One? Over,” Agent Two said. 

“Moved out of range, clear to mover forward. Clear to move to next cover, over,”

“All right, over,” Agent Two said and Fernando felt relieved. 

Momentarily. 

“Agent Two hold position. Agent Three move forwards and cover Agent One. Over.” Horner’s voice became stern and uncaring and a stone of worry dropped in Fernando’s stomach. 

“If I move Two will be open for attack, over,”

“Agent Three move forwards and cover Agent One, over,”

“So you don’t care if Two gets killed because you won’t cover him? Send another sniper, over,”

“Agent Three move forwards and cover Agent One! Over!” Horner’s voice was getting more and more irate but Fernando still didn’t move.

“I’m stuck at my post, no clear run to next cover,” Fernando lied. “Agent Two clear to move forward, over,”

“Agent Three you are being commanded by a superior to move forwards and cover Agent One, over,”

“No clear run, over,”

“Then take the risk! Over!” Fernando hated the feeling of how disposable he was. How disposable they all were. Here he was being commanded to leave another agent uncovered and risk his own life to protect fucking saint Agent One. The way the Red elite respected him within HQ always gave him a false pretence of actually being necessary to the programme. A pretence that was always crushed during battle. Fernando liked to think that if it had been any other Lieutenant he would have been told to stay put, cover Agent Two. There were other agents and junior ranks around that could cover One he knew he wasn’t all that necessary. But Horner was trying to protect his precious Agent One and so he wanted the best covering him, irrelevant to the fact that that left his second agent uncovered and unprotected. 

“Agent Three move, over,” Montezemolo’s voice sounded. A cold shiver ran down Fernando’s back but he knew there was no point arguing. Not anymore. He moved easily to the next abandoned sniper point and set up his gun. Agent One hadn’t moved into his new range yet so he took the opportunity to look back over his shoulder. He could see Agent Two too clearly for his liking. Fernando knew that he himself was covered from sight by the overhanging plantation but Agent Two was open and uncovered. 

“Horner this is stupid, a fresh junior could take him out, over,” Fernando said through gritted teeth. 

“I thought I told you to cover One, over,” Horner replied. 

“Not able to yet, he hasn’t reached me, over,” There was a pause. “Move him forwards to cover, I can cover them both, over,”

“Negative. You need to focus on One. He’s coming towards you now, over,”

“So you’re just going to leave him open? He’s sitting there like fresh bait!” As Fernando said the word, he realised. Agent Two was bait. Bait for any juniors that could try and stop Agent One. Bait for any enemy agents so as to distract from the course of Agent One. That was how disposable they were. 

“One is in your range. Cover him now, over,” Horner said. Fernando turned away from Agent Two and focused on Agent One. No one appeared. No one tried to attack. And Fernando knew why. They were trying to work out exactly what Agent Two was doing. He could sense them all around. Training guns on Two, just waiting for him to move. Once Agent One had disappeared around the corner along with a few more of the elite’s juniors flanking him Fernando spun round and focused on covering Agent Two. He was sitting in the same position he had been left awaiting some orders. But now Fernando was focused on him, he could see the enemy. It would be so easy to pick them off with his sniper. Too easy. But the prospect of his fire starting an attack on Agent Two made him hold fire. He looked up out of his viewfinder and watched as a special arms P-Orsche agent descended towards Agent Two. 

“Agent Two, you’ve got a special on your left, over,” Fernando said, training his sniper on the moving special. One shot and he would be down. That was all it would take. Fernando readied his finger on the trigger. Ready to release the fatal blown. Aiming in the centre of his head he knew the bullet would blast through his skull and bury deep into the soft ground he fell on. He was about to pull the trigger. 

“Mission accomplished agents. Agent One has infiltrated the building. Stand down and head back. We will regroup and plan our heist of the building back at HQ. Well done Agent One. Over and Out.” General Ecclestone said, addressing everyone on the field. That should have brought relief to Fernando but he knew that if Agent Two moved he would be shot many times. And that special was still moving forwards. 

“Three?” Agent Two asked. Fernando kept his eyes on the special that was still advancing.

“Special advancing, over,” Fernando said, trying not to focus on the caring tone of Agent Two’s voice. 

“Fernando,” The sudden drop of formalities made Fernando’s heart skip a beat. He lost his focus. 

“Mark,” Fernando said with his finger relaxing on the trigger. 

“I’ll see you up there, over.” Mark smiled and Fernando had a brief moment to look over his shoulder and see Mark smiling up at him. Fernando took the cue and forced himself to focus on the danger surrounding him. Surrounding them. He looked back through his viewfinder and planted a bullet in the special’s head. As his limp body fell to the floor it started. 

Hell was set loose. 

Fernando was not under much threat from his secluded sniper position, but as the juniors could not see who had shot their commander they had all turned on Mark. Fernando disassembled his sniper and stored it away, getting out his shot and heading towards Mark. He saw Mark dive into the cover Fernando had left earlier and began to head towards it, keeping to the shadows. 

“Agent Three fall back, over,” Domenicali was back in his ears. He found it more difficult to disobey his own sub-elite lieutenant. He took up his original sniper cover and stopped, the sound of fire surrounding him. 

“Two needs covering, over,” 

“Fall back. Over.”

“But-”

“-He is not our problem. Unless there is some other reason that you have to cover him, hang back. Over.” Domenicali knew. Domenicali knew everything about his agents. And he was testing Fernando. The elite or his forbidden lust. And Fernando knew he had to hang back. Domenicali knew. Fernando rushed up the hill, away from the action, and listened intently to his radio hoping to hear some good news from Mark. As he climbed up the steep slope they descended down he heard it. 

“OK, I have a clear run, over,” Mark called with a breathy voice from his running.

“Good, get yourself back up to the removal, over,” Horner replied.

“About three minutes, over,” Mark said. Fernando gripped onto the hard soil of the cliff-edge and began his climb to the top. The sudden crack made him jump and he swung to the left slightly, loosing his balance. As he regained his grip he saw, implanted just to the right of his right hand, was a bullet. 

“Shit! Position is compromised! Fire on escape, over,” Fernando yelled down his radio. The whoosh of air made him dive to the left and his hand slipped, making him fall a few feet. He was being shot at. The moon had illuminated their escape path like a spot light. He gritted his teeth and continued his climb. He hadn’t got far to go. Just four feet until he could pull himself onto flat ground and dive into the shadows to wait for Mark. He outstretched his right arm to clasp the top of the cliff when the bullet scraped the edge of his arm, forcing his blood to splash onto his face. 

“Fuck! Hit, I’ve been hit,” Fernando said. His right arm swung close to his body as he spat his blood out of his mouth. It’s metal tang infiltrating all of his senses. 

“Where? Is it fatal? Can you move forwards? Over,” Montezemolo asked showing a hint of worry in his voice. Fernando looked down at his arm. The blood was seeping through his torn black jacket. The wound would be fine, but it was whether the exertion would make it worse and make him loose too much blood. He reached up his arm and took hold the cliff top again. 

“Affirmative, I can move forwards, over,” Fernando said through gritted teeth. He pulled himself onto the cliff top - with more blood pouring down his arm - when someone grabbed the back of his bulletproof vest and dragged him up and under the cover of a tree. He looked up to see Agent Ten still with his hand tightly grasping the back of Fernando’s vest. Fernando had worked with Agent Ten when he was in the Laren elite. It had been Agent Ten’s first year in the field. Fernando had been happy to have held the Agent One position for the second year on the run and had moved from the Nult elite as Laren had better funds and higher quality weaponry. The year hadn’t gone well, Fernando had thought Agent Ten was too cocky and eager and Agent Ten had thought Fernando was an old dog and out of his prime. Their failure in the elite saw Ecclestone banned the Laren elite from field action for a whole year. Fernando had left and returned to Nult but Agent Ten stayed on, true to the elite that trained him. Until last year when he moved to the Silver elite.

“Come on, man, let’s go, over,” Agent Ten said as he began to drag Fernando towards the carrier van. Fernando pulled out of his grip halfway between their cover of the tree and the safety of the titanium van. 

“Where’s Agent Two? Over,” Fernando asked to anyone who would answer, turning away from Ten and pressing his fingers to his ear to try and here the message better over the sound of gunfire. Domenicali spoke. 

“Fall back to the van Agent Three, over,” He didn’t answer his question. And Domenicali knew how Fernando felt. Fernando swallowed, trying to force the panic from his voice that he could feel rising in his stomach. 

“Where is Agent Two? Over,” He asked again, a little more firmly. 

“Fall back, Three, over,” Montezemolo said. They weren’t telling him. They wouldn’t tell him. Someone had to know. Fernando started walking back to wards the cliff-edge. 

“Mark?” He called out to the night. No reply. He was worrying. He clicked on his radio. “Mark? Do you read? Over.” No reply. Fernando waited as long as he could but there was nothing. He kept moving towards the edge of the cliff. “Do you read? Over,” Panic was clear in his voice. He didn’t care who heard. He needed to hear Mark’s voice. “MARK!” He was three feet from the edge when someone caught him under his arms and began dragging him backwards. Fernando tried to regain his footing but there was no hope. The dragger was moving too fast and the dusty ground was holding no purchase. Fernando began screaming for Mark, thrashing to try and get out of his captives hold. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t stop the inevitable of begin dragged into the van. Agent Ten – who had been dragging him – caught his collar and threw him into the van, climbing in behind him and slamming the door. The engine started up. 

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He spat, pulling off his balaclava to reveal his face. His radio headband surrounded his forehead like everyone else’s did. Fernando pushed himself up off the floor standing up to look Lewis in the face. 

“If you didn’t notice before you dragged me on here, we’re missing an agent!” Fernando yelled back, ripping off his own balaclava. 

“Fernando,” Jenson placed a gentle hand on his shoulder but Fernando shrugged it off, turning to face Jenson who had also rid himself of his balaclava. 

“Great lot of good you all were! Did it escape everyone’s attention?” he yelled to all the other eight agents in the van, a frown of anger secured to his face. He saw Sebastian looking at the floor rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, his balaclava hanging loosely in his hand. No one but Jenson and Lewis were looking at him. Jenson tried again. 

“Fernando,” Fernando didn’t want to look at him again. His pained tone made him not want to hear anymore. Jenson squeeze his shoulder tighter. Fernando looked at his face. 

“Agent Two’s down.”


	2. They all Talk the Talk but they don't Understand the Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how many breaths that you took you still couldn't breathe

Fernando sat with his back against the wall. His jacket, bulletproof vest, weapons and radio were all hanging on his hook and in his locker. The red three glowing off the door indicated the spot in which they were all residing. He tore his eyes away from the empty hook beside it with the purple two above it and stared at the floor. Sergio was tending to his arm; having come from the SAU elite last year, he was trained in medical. Fernando’s black round neck shirt that highlighted his toned muscles was undamaged apart from the line of blood that had run down his arm and stained a dark line up the sleeve. It made a section of the red edging to his clothes darker. He winced as Sergio wiped the damp cloth he had been cleaning his arm with over the tear of his flesh.

“Sorry,” Sergio muttered, but Fernando knew he was apologising for more than just his arm. He understood his grief. Everyone in the elite knew of Mark and Fernando’s close friendship, so Fernando’s actions were understood. They just didn’t know how much deeper it went. How much pain Fernando was really in. Fernando rested his head against the cold wall behind him and closed his eyes. 

No one wanted to talk. Fernando’s outburst had stunned them all to silence. Every now and again, two of them would make eye contact across the van, look at Fernando and then back at each other as if trying to decide on something to say. Journeys back to HQ after a massive success like this were normally much happier and full of laughter. But not today. The loss of an agent that a lot of them knew well had caught them all silent. Showing exactly how vulnerable they all were. Sergio cleaned up Fernando’s arm and then rubbed some cold ointment on it that made Fernando gasp at the temperature. Fernando looked down at the orange cream. 

“What the hell is that?” Fernando asked in a small voice. 

“Prevents the wound from weeping again and helps to regenerate the blood you lost quicker,” Sergio said, dabbing it lightly on Fernando’s flesh and then screwing the lid on the ointment. “The Force elite developed it.”

“Didn’t used to have this,” Fernando commented, returning to resting his head on the wall with his eyes closed. 

“Technology has developed I suppose, we’re a lot more aware about safety than we used to be,” Sergio commented, beginning to wrap a bandage around Fernando’s forearm. “You’ll have to leave it covered for three days or the regenerated blood will rush out of the wound.”

“Thanks,” Fernando said, not moving from his position.

“It’s odd when you think about how far this stuff has come,” Jenson said, latching onto a conversation to remove the crushing silence that had filled the van. He sat next to Fernando and gestured to the pot in Sergio’s hand. “I remember when we had to sit with our arm in the air to prevent the blood running out of a wound and take these disgusting blood pills to build back our blood,”

“That’s cause you’re old, JB,” Lewis said, causing a small snicker of amusement from the van. Apart from Fernando. He remained silent with his lips pressed together and his eyes closed, leaning on the van wall. 

“I’m not old, I’m experienced,”

“My Dad told me that before they even had any of this stuff you would have to let your body fix itself normally. You could be out of action for weeks whilst your body fixed itself,” Nico added. 

“That’s old. I don’t think I would be in the business if it was that unsafe. Out of action for weeks…” Romain wrinkled his nose at his last comment. 

“Good thing technology has developed then, we would have an issue without Fernando for weeks,” Felipe joked. 

“Too right, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him,” Jenson said. 

“That’s cause you don’t check,” Sergio added quickly, preventing the awkwardness of loss to return. 

“I do, you’re just too cautious, mate,” The word ‘mate’ made Fernando squirm uncomfortably. He remained still and tried to force the image of Mark’s blood covered, bullet filled body from his mind. 

“I don’t want to loose my position. Major Dennis has got his eye on me,”

“You don’t know that,” Felipe said, speaking from experience. He knew the Red elite was watching him again and he couldn’t afford any more mistakes. 

“You’ve all heard the rumours. Lieutenant Whitmarsh is impressed by the progress of one of the other agents and at the beginning of the year I was apparently performing too recklessly,”

“You’ve just got to show them the results. They want to see you performing well,” Lewis said.

“Felipe is in the same boat,” Romain added. There conversation drifted off out of Fernando’s head as he focused on the rumble of the engine. Mark was trying his hardest to force his way into Fernando’s consciousness but Fernando was resisting. Now was not the place to mourn. He could do so in a hidden fashion once he was locked safely in his sleeping quarters. But not here. He would look to weak and give Ecclestone another reason to keep an eye on him. He’d already given him enough for one night and he needed to let this all calm down.

Sebastian sat looking at Fernando as Jenson got up and walked across the van, including himself in the conversation more. He didn’t like seeing him in this state. It was weird not having him sat in the corner quietly conversing with Mark as the babble about Sebastian’s success washed over them. But Sebastian wasn’t in the mood for celebrating his success. To him, this wasn’t a success. What had he done? He had worked out how a secret entrance to the P-Orsche HQ could be accessed. In the meantime he had pulled Fernando from his cover of Mark and let the Bull elite use Mark as bait. He didn’t feel good about his accomplishment. He felt responsible for the fact Mark wasn’t there. He didn’t want to talk to anyone but Fernando. He wanted to apologise sincerely. He sighed, thinking of how he had given Fernando another reason to hate him. First beating him three times in a row for the Agent One band, which he himself thought Fernando deserved more than him, and now for being the reason they had lost Mark. 

“Don’t beat yourself up too much,” Kimi muttered in Sebastian’s ear. Sebastian sat back and turned to face Kimi. He was the only person Kimi really spoke to and he didn’t know why. Kimi was very selective about what he said and his words were minimum. But he cared for Sebastian and could almost read his mind. 

“But it’s my fault…” Sebastian said sadly. He turned back to Fernando. “All of it.”

“Is not.” Kimi said. Sebastian turned to face him again, expecting him to go on. But this was Kimi. 

“How?”

“How is it?” 

“How is it? Because he was bait for me so I could open a fucking door! Whoop-te-do! If I hadn’t have needed Fernando’s cover it wouldn’t have happened,” He exasperated in a low voice. 

“Mark knew what he had to do.”

“Don’t try and make me feel better, Kimi, it wont work,” Sebastian said, pushing himself up onto his feet. Everyone else in the van was too interested in their conversation to care what Sebastian was doing. 

“Without what you did, the whole mission would have been pointless.” Kimi got up and held out his hand to Seb, intending for him to shake it. Seb pushed it away.

“I don’t want your congrats,” He said turning away from Kimi and pulling off his vest. His fingers brushed across the purple band slightly and he felt a pang of guilt. Because of their orders Mark wasn’t here. 

“Don’t let this ruin you.” Kimi said as he moved away and sat down in the corner normally occupied by Fernando and Mark. He rested his feet up on the bench and closed his eyes, pulling his sunglasses onto his face. Sebastian wouldn’t be surprised if he was already asleep. He looked back over to Fernando and moved next to him. The group conversation about next year had moved to the centre of the van, leaving Fernando just off to the edge and alone. He sat down. 

“Fernando,” he said tentatively. Fernando didn’t open his eyes but Seb saw him turn slightly towards him t show he was listening. Sebastian didn’t know where to start. “How did I do?”

“I still saw you, you didn’t listen to what I told you,” Fernando said, still not opening his eyes. Sebastian turned so he was facing him with his body, his legs crossed up on the bench.

“I tried,”

“You didn’t. You were too focused on your goal. That is not a good thing. If you are too focused you will forget to be hidden and that is when they will get you,” Sebastian knew that he was probably doing an amazing job as it was because no one did see him. Apart from Fernando. And he relished in Fernando’s criticism. He always sought him out after a mission for tips on how to improve. The one day Fernando didn’t see him he would be satisfied, finally believe there was no other way he could improve. 

“I had Captain Marko in my ear,” Sebastian said. 

“I don’t care for your excuses. Do you think an excuse will stop an enemy sniper taking you out?” Fernando opened his eyes and looked over at Sebastian. His gaze crumpled the normalness of the conversation and Sebastian felt instantly guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian said before he could stop himself. Fernando considered him for a moment before turning away again, closing his eyes. “Fernando, I-”

“-Is done now. Nothing more can be done.” Fernando didn’t want to hear Sebastian explain how it was his entire fault. There was a pause. “Congratulations.” He added sincerely. 

“I didn’t want you to cover me, I wanted you to stay with h-”

“-Is done.” Fernando looked at him again and Sebastian shrunk a little under his intense gaze. “Drop it.”

“I don’t want you to hate me,” Sebastian said to his feet. 

“I do not hate you. Now drop it.” Sebastian frowned up at Fernando who had – again – turned away with his eyes closed. 

“Why not?” Sebastian asked. 

“Not your fault. We all know the risks.” Fernando turned to face him one last time and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself.” There was a brief squeeze but before Sebastian had realised it had happened Fernando had turned away again, closing his eyes and shutting out the rest of the van. 

“Thank you,” Sebastian said. Fernando gave him a small nod that told him he was welcome and to stop talking to him at the same time. Sebastian swung his legs off the bench and lent back against the wall, mimicking Fernando’s position. He closed his eyes and said his own good bye to Mark. Small sadness filled him as he realised he was now alone in the Bull elite. They would find a replacement easily, but it would never be the same. He had never lost a partner in action before and he felt tears start to build in his eyes.


	3. Our Little Secrets that only We were Supposed to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how many nights that you'd lie wide awake to the sound of the poison rain,   
>  Where did you go? Where did you go? Where did you go.

Fernando walked into his empty, red sleeping quarters. Someone had some humanity in this place at least; his de-briefing would be held off until the morning. Relieved wouldn’t quite be a big enough world to explain how he was feeling. He passed into the bathroom and filled the sink with water. Cupping as much of it in his hands as he could he covered his face and looked up at his reflection as the droplets ran down and splashed into the sink. What was he now? Alone. The first word that surrounded his thoughts. And he was. There was no one else who would ever fill the void burning into his chest. It would be an empty pit forever. He was, indeed, alone. 

He ran a towel clumsily over his face and moved back into his room. He knew he should change out of his sweat-drenched, dirty mission uniform but the idea of that just seemed to be too much effort. Alone. The word just resounded around his head. The way it bounced off every corner, forcing itself to fill any gap until it was the only thing Fernando could think about. His eyes fell onto the bandage around his arm. If Mark was gone then why did he want to stay? He briefly considered ripping the clinically white bandage from his arm and letting himself bleed dry. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Instead he just stared down at the wound. Covered by the new technology Fernando had never heard of before. How much more would change? Be developed in such a way that the body didn’t need to fix itself. He considered the fact that maybe there would come a time where each of the elite field agents would be fixed by machinery and then there would never be a need to replace them.

But Mark would never be replaced.

Fernando fell heavily onto his bed. Now was his time to mourn. Other formalities would be held and Fernando would go along to pay his respects, but his emotions would be hidden. Too well for anyone to be able to read. A stony mask is what he would wear. So now was his time to mourn. The wound was still fresh and he let all thoughts of Mark that had been trying to surface rush into his head. Blocking out the solitude word that was trying to be noticed. He let the sobs roll out of him, at first, staring up at the ceiling as the tears rolled down his cheek but as the sobs got louder he threw himself backwards and buried his face in his pillow, muffling the sound. He didn’t want anyone to know of his melancholy actions. He was mourning Mark for an entirely different reason than people thought; it was more than lust. So much more. 

It was love. 

A mutual love that they had to hide. And now it was gone. Forever. Nothing could retrieve it and nothing could fill the hollowing sensation that was spreading through Fernando. The sounds he was making were distraught. He gasped for air as he tried to calm himself down, but each try presented him with more wonderful memories of Mark. How it was at the beginning of their time in the F-1 elite. Before they had to pretend, begin this sick game. It was their secret and no one had ever been told. Fernando pushed his palms over his eyes, but as he did his vision fixed onto the jagged scar on his left wrist. Their scar. And his body shook with more sobs.

It had been during training when it happened. Out of its deep meaning it was pretty pathetic, but Fernando didn’t think so. Fernando never thought so. He had been at the Minard elite at the time – that was when it was still around – and Mark had come by to have his first test. Fernando was leaving to the Nult elite and Mark was his replacement. Fernando had been dubious at first because Mark was older than him and he was cocky and young. But Mark had proved himself… 

“How about you just watch to see how it’s done and ask any questions at the end,” Fernando said in a conceited tone. This new boy wasn’t even worth his time. He was more excited about the prospect of joining a team that fed right into the field agents. He didn’t care to try and teach this old dog new tricks. 

“I think you can trust me with a pistol and a target, mate,” The Australian said, pulling the gun from Fernando’s limp grasp. Fernando hadn’t bothered to remember his name and now wished he had. He wanted to sound authoritative to this private, like he was powerful. 

“Are you suddenly in command, Private?” Fernando asked, but the other man just rolled his eyes. 

“No, but you only learn by doing,” he stated and he aimed for the target. Fernando tried not to watch him, but after he made six consecutive shots to the bullseye Fernando couldn’t look anywhere else. The man emptied the barrel and sent ten bullets straight through the centre, leaving a clear, singular hole where they had all deposited through. He turned to Fernando smugly and was glad to see his face dropped into a perfect ‘o’ and him wide eyed. He pressed the empty gun into Fernando’s hand. 

“Satisfactory enough for you, or do you think I need to watch some more?” He said in a trialling tone, folding his arms. Fernando’s eyes were fixated on the perfect hole in the middle of the target. 

“No… No… Just… No, that was… No…” The older man smirked at the state of shock Fernando was in. He knew he was older than most of those already in the F-1 elite training elites but he had worked extremely hard to get to where he was. And he was about to be put at the top of the pack. He wasn’t going to let any snobby little kid tell him he was no good. 

“What’s next?” He asked, pulling Fernando back to his senses. Fernando pushed himself off the table he was sitting on; suddenly very aware of the height of the other man and how it made him look down on him. He felt intimidated, but part of him wanted that intimidation. 

“I suppose we move onto the next station,” Fernando said, waving his arm back to gesture to the door and knocking a glass jug into a row of glasses. They all, obviously, smashed, sending shards of glass everywhere. But Fernando had tried to reach for the jug and it had smashed up, sending a large shard deep into his left wrist. “Fuck!” The Australian’s amused expression moved to one of concentration as he took Fernando’s wrist in his hands, scrutinising the wound. It was deep. A deep cut that would release a lot of blood as soon as the shard was released. Fernando went to take the shard out. 

“No.” He grabbed Fernando’s other uninjured wrist and pushed it away. “Don’t touch it,” He bent Fernando’s arm at the elbow to elevate his wrist. “Keep that in the air.” He circled his hand around Fernando’s right wrist and dragged him towards the medical tent. The tent was only designed to cater for small cuts and bruises, not for something on Fernando’s scale. But the Australian got the impression Fernando didn’t want to be seen in the medical quarters because he knocked a glass over. He sat him on a chair and looked around the supplies.

Fernando watched the other man as he rummaged through cupboards and drawers, clearly knowing what he was looking for. He wanted more than anything to pull the shard out of his wrist; the pain was building and he could feel the tears prickling in the corner of his eyes. The pulse of blood was visible on the side of his arm that was turned to face him and at the sight of the first dribble of blood Fernando felt his stomach turn and though he was going to be sick. But he kept his arm where his trainee told him to; he trusted the man he barely knew. The man moved back over with various items. 

“Hold still; this may- Shit, are you alright?” He had looked up to Fernando to see a very pale man facing him. All the blood had gone from Fernando’s face and he looked like he was about to pass out. All Fernando could give him for an answer was a nod, but he needed a little more. “I’m going to need you to keep talking to me, alright? Just tell me about your day,” Fernando nodded again, but still didn’t speak. The Australian stopped his preparations for Fernando’s wrist and placed a hand gently to cup his face. “Ok, Fernando. I really need you to keep talking. Just say anything. Future aspirations, plans for tomorrow, favourite flavour of ice cream-” 

“-I think I'm going to be sick,” Fernando muttered. 

“Ok, that’s normal. Just take deep breaths.” Fernando exaggerated his breathing considerably, but his trainee was still worried he was going to pass out on him. Or worst still die. He knew that the glass had cut very close to or possibly through a main artery and so he was trying not to think of the worst. If Fernando died it wouldn’t go down too well for him. “How are you feeling?” He said and he laid out the things, ready to extract the shard. 

“Sick,” 

“I’m going to need a little more than that,” 

“I don’t like the blood.” Fernando said, closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing. Why did this guy have to keep him talking? He felt light-headed and sick. 

“Why not?” The Australian asked, sterilising the tweezers so he could fish out any small fragments after the main shard had been removed. 

“Its… Fuck, I’m going to-” Fernando threw his head over the side of the chair and vomited violently into a coincidentally but luckily placed bucket. The other man took the opportunity to pull the shard out of Fernando’s wrist. “FUCK! YOU-FUCK! WHY? FUCK! THAT FUCKING HURT!” Fernando yelled as he glared back at the man tending to his wrist.

“I’m sorry,” He said, trying his best to shield Fernando from being able to see the blood gushing from the split in his skin. He took the ribbon he had found and tied it tightly just above Fernando’s elbow, slowing the pulse to the wound. 

“Do you even know what you’re fucking doing? You could be ruining me!” Fernando snarled. 

“Calm down. It’s just a cut,” The Australian said as he picked up the tweezers. “This may hurt,” 

“It already fucking does,” Fernando growled. He felt back into his chair, suddenly feeling very light-headed. “What the fuck are you doing?” He said through gritted teeth. 

“I’ve got to get it all out,” 

“All?” Fernando’s voice broke on the small word. 

“Just a few small fragments, I won’t be long and then I’ll fix you,” The Australian said, concentrating on extracting the transparent glass that was constantly being dyed red. He tried to ignore the twitches of pain in Fernando’s hand. A few moments of silence past. “Fernando, ask me a question.”

“A question?” 

“Yes, anything. You have to keep talking to me,” Another pause. 

“OK… Err, what’s your name?” The man tried to bypass the fact he had forgotten or just not listened when he was initially told and focused on extracting the last piece of glass. 

“Mark.” 

“Cool. I like that. Short. Simple. To the point.” 

“It’s a name, it has no point,” 

“It does. It defines you. I’d prefer a short name.” 

“Why? What’s wrong with Fernando?” 

“It’s too long. You try calling orders to Fernan-Fuck,” Fernando winced as Mark ran a wet cloth across his arm, cleaning up the wound. Fernando picked up his point. “Calling orders to Fernando: ‘OK, Fernando, flank right,’ It’s too long. Mark is great: ‘Mark, survey the area,’ No time lost.” 

“But Fernando’s exotic, its interesting,” 

“I don’t like it.” Mark sprayed Fernando’s deep cut with the anti-bleeding oil and inspected the cut properly. It was deep, but no longer bleeding. He fell back on his heels in relief as he saw the main artery that ran through Fernando’s arm was still intact. It was weird being able to see it, the pulse running up his arm. But it had bee close to disastrous. Mark exasperated before he moved forwards to wrap it in a bandage. 

“It’s deep, but it’s not bleeding anymore,” Mark said, moving so he was no longer blocking Fernando from seeing his own arm. Fernando stopped his hand from beginning the wrap and looked down curiously at the cut. 

“Huh.” Fernando said, perplexed. 

“It would scar but the team in the medical quarters can sort that-” 

“-No. I’m not going to medical. They’ll want me to explain.” Mark blinked at him. He couldn’t seriously have that much pride and not want to bruise it. 

“But if you don’t it will scar and then you will have to-” 

“-Then it will scar.” Fernando said, letting go of Mark’s wrist and sitting back in the chair with his eyes closed, indicating for him to continue with the bandage. Mark began, letting out a breathy laugh and shaking his head. Fernando opened his eyes and looked at him. “What?” 

“You’re insane,” 

“Yes. So?” 

“You’ll have to get blood replacement pills prescribed and they’ll make you explain then.” 

“No I won’t. They keep a small stash down here just in case. Very rarely checked. I’ll take some of them. No one will know.” Mark looked up at him. 

“You really know how to work the system,” 

“You have to learn the hard way sometimes,” 

“But how will you know I won’t rat you out?” Mark asked, finishing the tie. Fernando looked into his face. 

“Because I trust you,” 

“OK.” Fernando stood up and untied the ribbon from his elbow, passing it to Mark. He rubbed the spot as Mark began to clear up. 

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly wiggling his fingers to get the blood rushing back to them. He had used the anti-bleeding oil before and knew it would hold. 

“Don’t mention it,” Mark shrugged. 

“I’m sorry for being an arse. I guess I wasn’t fair.” 

“You could say that again,” Mark muttered to himself low enough so Fernando wouldn’t hear. He knew how much this must have been hurting his pride anyway: apologising to someone lower than him. But it was a step in the right direction so Mark took it. “We’re all young and cocky.” He addressed to Fernando. 

“Well I am sorry. Truly.” Fernando said to Mark’s eyes and he knew he was being sincere. 

“Thank you. Maybe nearly killing you was a good thing,” Mark winked and made Fernando smile. 

“Maybe. Though I’d appreciate it if it didn’t happen again,” Fernando smiled. There was a pause. “Mark?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it our little secret,” Mark said, holding open the tent door. Fernando’s posture relaxed a little as he walked out with Mark in tow. They understood each other. But Fernando held back the words he really wanted to say… 

Fernando pressed his lips to their scar just like Mark would have done if he were here. He had not wanted it to be removed because every time he saw it it reminded him of the person Mark helped him become. A better person. Who was ultimately better at his job than he had been before the accident. His breathing had calmed at the recollection of their first encounter but the tears were still rolling down his cheeks. He knew Mark would tell him he was over reacting. Mark believed he wasn’t anything special. But Fernando knew he was. Twelve years of love and he couldn’t think of his life without that man. The man with the cool short name that was perfect for giving orders. Or sighing into the rain. ‘Fernando’ was too long for any of that. 

Fernando wrapped his arms around his pillow tightly. Never again would Mark’s arms return his hold. Never again would he sneak up to the roof to spend time with Mark. Never again would he fall asleep in Mark’s arms listening to his rhythmic heartbeat. Never. It was all gone. As if twelve years of his life had been wiped away with an accidental slip. And he didn’t know what to be anymore. He didn’t know what to be without Mark. Somehow, between crying, closing his eyes and clutching his pillow as if it were the man he loved more than anything in the world, he fell asleep. 

\- - -

Fernando felt like he had been asleep for thirty seconds. He didn’t feel well rested at all. He was in the same position he had fallen asleep in, clutching onto his pillow with his left wrist resting on the bridge of his nose. The bright light of the morning surrounded him as he saw it. Silhouetted against the window so the features were hard to pick out. But he knew who it was. He sat up slowly, trying to take it all in. Impossible.

Mark was laughing at him from the end of the bed.

“Morning sunshine,” Mark smiled, his eyes glowing with life. Fernando didn’t believe it. Impossible. Fernando crawled up the bed until he was sitting close to Mark. Mark – alike him – was still wearing his mission uniform from yesterday. The purple lining of his shirt seemed to illuminate off his contrasting creamy skin. Fernando reached a hand forwards to touch him, but stopped just short. 

“How?” he croaked, his voice thick from sleep and emotion. 

“I was just down the hill. Three minutes I had said. But when I got to the top the van went. I wasn’t quick enough. I managed to radio back taking cover behind a rock and Horner sent another recovery team to collect me. They checked me over when I got back and sent me to rest in my quarters. But I came here instead. I wanted to see you,” Mark smiled, waiting for Fernando to make the first move. Fernando couldn’t remember seeing any rocks up on the recovery point, just a lot of trees. But the finer details didn’t matter to him right now; Mark was here with him. Mark wasn’t dead. He was here. Fernando threw himself forwards and captured Mark’s lips with his own. A couple of tears spilled from his over-full eyes but he let them drop. He was so relieved that Mark was here. Mark was here. 

“I tried to make them wait-” Fernando started.

“-Hey, it’s not your fault,” Mark said as he brushed a hair from Fernando’s face. It stayed where it was and Mark rolled his eyes. “So stubborn. Just like you. I bet you gave them hell when they drove off,” Mark smiled. Fernando pulled him closer, feeling too far away from him even with this close proximity. 

“They wouldn’t listen to me. I knew you were still around,”

“Well I’m here now, mate,” Mark smiled. The small signature word falling from Mark’s lips sent goose bumps over Fernando’s body. Mark always said it right. When Jenson had said it, it sounded foreign, like it didn’t belong. Mark’s voice made the word perfect. Fernando pulled him back into their kiss and dragged him backwards so he was lying on to of him. Fernando broke the kiss momentarily to convey to Mark what he wanted him to do. And Mark understood. Fernando closed the gap between them again and felt Mark’s hand run down his side, sliding it slowly into Fernando’s trousers. 

At the point of contact Fernando gasped, opening his eyes and staring lustfully into Mark’s. The movement was slow at first, but as their kiss intensified the pace sped up. It was with an amazing weight lifted off Fernando’s chest that he released himself into Mark’s hand. He floated down on the feeling keeping the arm he had wrapped around Mark’s back gripping tightly to his shirt. But as he opened his eyes to look up at Mark, he was gone. 

Fernando frowned at the ceiling and he felt his eyes water as the morning light hit them. He squeezed them shut and opened them again, waiting for them to adjust before he sat himself up. One hand was behind him, propping him up whilst the other was down the front of his trousers. He pulled it out and looked down on it, seeing his own seed coating it. Sadness crashed over him and threatened to suffocate him. It was a dream. Mark hadn’t been here. Mark wasn’t alive and well and holding Fernando closely. Mark was not here because Mark was dead. 

It had been a dream.

\- - -

It had been four days since they returned from the mission. Four days of silence from Fernando. Four days he had been summoned to the Red elite offices for a de-brief and to help plan a strategy for the next attack. Four days Fernando had lay, curled in a ball in the middle of his bed, ignoring it all. Andrea had come in at some point, Fernando wasn’t really sure why. But he had gone and no one else had come.

“Fernando?” He had said as he knocked on the door, letting himself in at the same time. Fernando hadn’t moved. He just closed his eyes. “You’re needed,” Fernando still didn’t move, hoping his stillness would make Andrea go away. But it didn’t. Andrea moved into the room and perched on the edge of his bed. “Fernando, I know you don’t want to but we all need you upstairs. You’re attracting unwanted attention for yourself. You’ve been mourning too long,”

“I’m not done yet,” Fernando muttered, pulling his knees closer. At this time his dream was still fresh in his mind and the pain was too much. 

“You can’t do this forever,”

“Try me.” Andrea looked down on the small form of the man on the bed. This wasn’t Fernando. This was wrong. It just confirmed to him that there was much more between Fernando and Agent Two than they had both let on.

“I know he was your friend but you can’t let it stop you. You need to keep going. You’ve worked too hard to get to the elite to let it all slip through your fingers now,” Andrea placed a supportive hand on Fernando’s shoulder. He had changed into grey joggers and his Red elite team shirt with his mission uniform hanging on the back of his chair. Andrea got off the bed and scooped up the uniform, taking it out of the room. “You can take that bandage off your arm now, there’s no risk of weeping,” Andrea said in a kind tone as he departed from the room. 

Fernando looked down at the still clinically white bandage. He hadn’t taken it off when he showered, but it seemed resistant to everything. He slowly pulled it off and examined the wound below. Or he would have done if there were a wound to see. A small, very faint line was visible on his arm but that was all. It should have made him happy; no further damage. But instead it just made him mad. How he could be repaired so easily but Mark was not… He curled himself back into his ball and closed his eyes. 

No one had come since then. It was nice, peaceful. That was, until today, when the door was thrown open in such an unceremonious manner Fernando was shocked it didn’t fly off its hinges. He had his back to the door but the bang of the contact between the wall and the thrown wooden panel gave away the force of which it was thrown. Fernando flinched at the sudden sound but fell back into his secluded mind quickly. 

“Get him up,” The sharp tone of Montezemolo said and Fernando was suddenly hauled out of his comfortable position and onto his feet. He stared at the floor, being supported up by the two men holding him under his arms. “Agent Three, you were summoned four days ago and have be since to appear in the Red elite office for a de-brief. Please explain why you have not yet appeared?” Fernando remained silent staring at the floor. He heard Montezemolo exasperate before giving an order. “OK.”

The sudden strike to his stomach caught Fernando off guard. Winded, he curled forwards, trying to move his arms across his stomach and crumple to the floor. But the men on his arms stayed firm and kept him on his feet so he couldn’t move. He coughed as he glared up at Montezemolo with tears from the pain forming in his eyes. He moved so his face was close to Fernando’s, his tone becoming menacing. Fernando had a moment to register Domenicali and Andrea hovering by the door and Fry standing off to the side, fist poised in case another hit was necessary.

“I’ll ask you again. Explain why you have not yet appeared.” Montezemolo breathed into his face. Fernando glared back at him but still didn’t answer. A flash of anger shot through Montezemolo’s eyes before he moved away and gestured to Fry to move forwards. Fernando watched him as he came forwards and Fry couldn’t hold his intense gaze. He swung his leg out, lifting Fernando briefly from the floor. But instead of falling onto his feet the two unknown men at his arms pushed him forwards so he landed hard on his knees. He dropped his head, holding back the profanities he wanted to yell.

“I am a man of little patience.” Montezemolo said, beginning to pace in front of Fernando as Fry moved away. “It will be easier for the two of us if you just tell me why you have not left this room for four straight days.” He stopped in front of Fernando and crouched down to his level. A tentative touch of his finger under Fernando’s chin lead to it being lifted and he was forced to look up at Montezemolo. “We have other agents. You’re not special.”

“If you just-” Andrea started, pushing his way into the room. 

“-I though you told him the conditions on which he was allowed to come,” Montezemolo spat over his shoulder at Domenicali. 

“I did, Sir,” Domenicali said, placing a hand on Andrea’s shoulder to prevent him from moving forwards. The Italian stopped in his tracks and winced slightly at the increase of pressure from Domenicali’s hand. He gave Fernando an apologetic look. Montezemolo turned back to Fernando who pushed his lips into a straight line and looked up into his face. There was a pounding under his ribs where Fry’s first punch had made contact. 

“Lieutenant Domenicali has confided in me about his suspicions regarding Agent Two. I need you to confirm these are false.” Montezemolo continued removing his hand from Fernando’s chin. Still he remained silent. He watched as the anger pulsed through the older man crouched in front of him. He stood and walked away from Fernando, who dropped his head and frantically tried to think of a way out of this, and moved to Domenicali getting him to confirm something. With two long strides he was back in front of Fernando. He scratched his hand across Fernando’s scalp and yanked a handful of his hair upwards, forcing the Spaniard to look up at him with his head held at an uncomfortable angle. He glared down at him and finally broke Fernando’s expressionless mask, seeing the pain in his top agent’s eyes. 

“We have made you what you are. Given you this opportunity. We were the ones who talked to General Ecclestone. We were the ones who made him see your promise. We are the ones who formed that promise and shaped you into the successful agent you are today. If we had known you were going to throw it in our faces we would have used our resources and efforts on someone else. Prove to me that we didn’t waste our time.” Fernando saw Fry walk into his vision range. It was timed too well. Choreographed for every situation. As Montezemolo finished talking Fry produced the threat that would make Fernando talk. And if he remained silent? The polished metal bar being held tantalisingly in Fry’s hand would surely find contact with some unfortunate part of his body. He swallowed and looked back up at Montezemolo. 

“I’ll come to the de-brief.” He said trying to keep his voice even. He saw in his peripheral vision Andrea’s posture relax. But Montezemolo’s hand remained in his hair. Someone across the room signalled invisibly for Fernando’s arms to be released and they fell heavily against his legs. The two men moved from beside him. 

“Well that is good.” Montezemolo started sarcastically. “If only you could have come to that conclusion four days ago.”

“I-”

“-Think carefully before you try to lie. We know a lot about you.” Fernando stared deep into his eyes. There was no way they could know. He didn’t believe it. But he didn’t want to risk it being discovered. 

“I got lost.” He said confidently, somehow fixing his broken mask. Montezemolo opened his mouth to speak again, but it was Domenicali’s voice that was heard. 

“And we assume you have now found your way?” Fernando looked over to him, his head still being held awkwardly by Montezemolo who was also looking over at his Lieutenant. 

“I won’t get lost again.” Fernando said. Domenicali moved forwards. 

“Five minutes. If you’re not in the de-brief room by then we will be back,” Domenicali said with a tone of finality, his eyes falling on the metal bar then back to Fernando to imply that it would get worse if he didn’t come. He clasped Montezemolo’s shoulder and finally Fernando’s head was released. He held himself up though. Once they had gone he would crumple. But not now. He had to look strong. 

It was odd seeing Domenicali in more power of the situation than Montezemolo, but Fernando assumed he had asked Domenicali to stop him if he went too far. Too far in what Fernando didn’t want to know. Maybe Domenicali had exploited that responsibility and in a moment of sympathy for Fernando had prevented him from having to explain. The five men left without another words, but Andrea stayed back. Only briefly, but long enough for Fernando to know he had nothing to do with it. He gave Fernando a guilty, sorry look as he placed a clean, fresh uniform on his desk. The black shirt with the red edging and the black combat trousers were all too familiar but also too associated with Mark and as Andrea left, closing the door behind him, he crumpled onto the floor letting fresh tears roll down his cheeks as he covered his head with his hands protectively. 

He had five minutes to sort himself out.


	4. Don't Look Up to Those Who Can Let You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As days go by, the night's on fire.

The view as he opened the door was surprising, though expected. Andrea was sitting where he normally did in de-briefs, behind the desk, and the spare seat was set in front of it for Fernando to take. The room was bland, grey and small and looked very similar to a police interview room. That was what it could double up as if the agents ever caught a witness or had someone to interrogate. Those jobs didn’t fall to Fernando; he was a shot-them-and-leave agent. The other elites dealt with matter like that, namely the White elite. Their two special agents, Pastor and Valtteri, normal took command of the interrogations. Good cop bad cop they played it. Pastor was always the bad cop. Fernando thought that maybe Valtteri couldn’t be bothered with the fight for change with Pastor. That or they were just really fitting to those roles. They were always seen walking through the halls together, Valtteri trying to tell Pastor something and Pastor striding just ahead as if his partner wasn’t there. Everyone knew Pastor was desperate to get into the field but he was too reckless, too unsafe. It was more hassle than it was worth. 

As he took in the man sitting behind the desk with his palms resting on top of it, he also clocked the two men standing just off his shoulders. Domenicali and Montezemolo. Of course they were not done. Fernando closed the door behind him and moved over to the vacant seat. Andrea’s feelings were etched clearly into the lines of his face: he was sorry. He didn’t want to be doing this as much as Fernando didn’t want to hear it. Fernando gave him a small smile of forgiveness as he sat down, his eyes falling onto the cassette player in the centre of the desk before looking up at the two extra men in the room.

“Didn’t realise this was a special de-briefing,” Fernando said casually, cutting through the awkward silence that was threatening to engulf the room. 

“Cut it a bit fine, didn’t you,” Domenicali said, looking up from his watch. “We were afraid you had changed your mind.”

“I’m here on time aren’t I?” Fernando challenged. 

“We wanted to make sure you understood a few things.” Montezemolo said, now back to the emotionless robot. Fernando looked into his cold eyes and let him know his mask was back. Fernando was unbreakable. 

“That you didn’t forget them when you got lost,” Domenicali said in a tone that indicated a double meaning to his words. Fernando understood both but kept his eyes on Montezemolo. 

“So before we leave you in the capable hands of Agent Stella,” Montezemolo said, clapping Andrea on the shoulder and evoking a wince from the Italian. “We thought you could listen to this,” he gestured his hand forwards as if presenting the cassette player. Fernando looked down at it. When no one spoke again he looked back up at the three men in front of him. 

“And what exactly is this?” Fernando asked, knowing that their silence was an indication for his input. 

“To be accepted onto a field elite, each agent must agree to the programme. It is a small meeting held in a room similar to this up on the top floor. General Ecclestone records each agent’s acceptance as a verbal contract, a ‘just in case’ basis. Each team can retrieve the files of their agents. Four years ago, you were escorted up to the top floor, into a room similar to this one and sat down in front of General Ecclestone.”

“In light of recent events, we thought it was important for you to remember exactly what it was that you and all the other ten field elite agents agreed to.” Domenicali added and Fernando picked up on the fact he was making it clear Mark also agreed to all of the conditions he was about to hear. But Fernando’s mind had started to wonder. All the way back to that day four years ago. The early hours of the morning of the recording he was about to hear, he had gone to Mark. Sought him out and dragged him up to the roof. A floor above where he would have been sitting hours later. 

“Mark, I’m scared,” Fernando said bluntly. Mark caught his face in his hands, making him look up at him. 

“Tell me why,” Mark said, though he already knew. He knew the Red elite had fought for Fernando’s acceptance to their force. Even though he wasn’t being able to prove himself at Nult everyone could see the promise he provided. And the Red elite always got the best. 

“You know what I’ve got to agree to. And I don’t think I can,” 

“You can. I know you can,” 

“But they-”

“-Fernando I agreed to it. All you have to do is say yes.” Fernando sighed and looked down at his feet. 

“But you don’t… It’s hard. Before it was fine. I didn’t have anyone telling me what I could and couldn’t do. But now they want everything. One hundred per cent of me. And I don’t know if I can give it all,” 

“You can, Fer, I know it. They want the best of you and that just so happens to be one hundred per cent of you,” 

“But what about us?” Fernando looked deep into Mark’s eyes, revealing his true fear. 

“Nothing will change.” 

“It will have to; they will want me. All of me. But they can’t have it because some of it falls with you,” Mark rested his forehead on Fernando’s. He was glad he had been prepared for this moment. He wanted to see Fernando’s eyes light up as he gave him his solace. He pulled a tape recorder out of his pocket and a napkin and a pen. He placed them all in Fernando’s hands and smirked at the small frown that appeared on his face. 

“If it falls with me then I suppose we have some things to settle,” Mark said. Fernando looked up at him. 

“I don’t understand,” Mark kissed the crease at the top of the bridge of Fernando’s nose before taking his hand in his own and leading him to the spot where they watched the stars some nights. He sat in front of Fernando and both of them crossed their legs. Mark laid the pen on top of the napkin next to the tape recorder and started the recording. Fernando just looked at him confused, but his frown faltered as Mark linked both of his hands with Fernando’s. 

“We’ll have a dummy run. I’ll ask the questions and all you have to do is agree. But this means something, so I want honesty.” Mark said and Fernando nodded. He knew it was stupid to be recording these words, but it was for Fernando. Their own verbal contract. Something that couldn’t be broken by anything. “Promise. Five promises that you can’t break. If you think you might break it, don’t promise,” Mark smiled and Fernando took a deep breath. 

“Do you understand?” Domenicali said and Fernando nodded. Just as he had four years ago. Montezemolo looked already impressed at the return of the Fernando he had promoted to work for him. “Stella, please.” Domenicali said, indicating for Andrea to start the tape. Andrea didn’t move.

“I don’t think-”

“-We are not asking you to think, we are asking you to press play,” Montezemolo said whilst looking at Fernando. Fernando was looking down at the black box in the middle of the table and so he didn’t see Andrea’s apologetic look. The small crackle of static announced the beginning of the recording. Fernando took a deep breath. 

“You understand the terms of your hiring and you understand that the acceptance of these conditions is crucial to your progression in the elite?” General Ecclestone’s voice sounded, filling the small room. Fernando remembered nodding at this point, entirely forgetting it was being voice recorded. Ecclestone’s small laugh is heard. “It doesn’t pick up movements,”

“Sorry. Yes, I understand.” Fernando’s slightly younger voice replaced Ecclestone’s in the small room.

“OK. Can you give up any family ties you have outside and in the F-1 elite?” There was a small pause. 

“Yes, I can.” Fernando’s voice said confidently. But he remembered Mark’s first promise. 

“Can you promise that you will never lie to me, as I can promise I will never lie to you?” 

“I promise,” 

Fernando’s responses to Mark were full of emotion and love, unlike the robotic, clinical responses he gave to General Ecclestone.

“Can you forget any friends or social habits you had before your time of joining a field elite, inside and out of this programme?”

“I can.”

“Can you promise you would always look for me if I went missing, just as I can promise the same to you?” 

“I promise.” 

“Can you dedicate yourself to never giving up any information about the F-1 elite to anyone inside or outside this programme, even if that meant giving up your own life or enduring severe torture?”

“I can.”

“Can you promise that no matter what you say to anyone else, you will always love me, just as I can promise I will always love you?” 

“I promise.” 

“Can you give up any relationships or sexual affairs you have or have had inside or out of this programme?” There was a longer pause after this question and Fernando swallowed. 

“I can.” 

“Can you promise that no matter what you tell anyone in the F-1 elite you will always stay with me and never leave me, even if they found out about us and told you to, just as I can promise to you?” 

“I promise with all my heart, Mark,” 

“And can you, Fernando Alonso Díaz, dedicate one hundred per cent of yourself to this programme?”

“I can dedicate one hundred per cent of myself to this programme.”

“Can you, Fernando Alonso Díaz, promise that until the day we both stop breathing, you will love me and never hurt me, just as I can promise you?” 

“Always, Mark. Can always promise you this,” Fernando pulled himself onto Mark’s lap and kissed him deeply. It was always going to be too much to let Mark go, but this had shown him he didn’t have to. Mark had made those same promises to the elite that Fernando was going to have to and here he was, promising himself to Fernando as if those conditions didn’t exist. And Fernando knew that he could agree to anything the elite asked. As long as he had Mark. They both signed the napkin and fell asleep in each other’s arms, Fernando clutching the napkin tightly in his hand. 

The tape recording stopped and Fernando looked back up at the three men in front of him. Little did they know the promises he had really made that day. And it was that same feeling of still having himself in the midst of this hell that made him so confident in himself now. He would say what they wanted and please them because he would always know that what he and Mark had had was wonderful and no one could ever take that from him. 

“Is there anything on the recording that should be amended?” Montezemolo asked. Fernando shook his head. 

“I can still and always will dedicate myself one hundred per cent to this programme.” Fernando said definitively. Both Montezemolo and Domenicali looked satisfied. Andrea was looking at his hands. 

“I think that concludes our meeting then. I’ll let Agent Stella give you a run down of what you have missed.” Montezemolo said, picking up the cassette player and putting it in his pocket. He moved across the room and held the door open for Domenicali who had followed him to the door. Domenicali placed a fatherly hand on Fernando’s shoulder and smiled down at him. 

“Good to have you back, Agent Three,” He said in a casual and almost friendly tone. Fernando smiled back up at him as he turned his hold into a pat and walked out of the room. Montezemolo gave him a small smile before following Domenicali and shutting the door behind him. Andrea lent forwards to Fernando.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do that. Or earlier. I didn’t know they were going to hit-”

“-It’s alright.” Fernando said, giving Andrea a small smile. Andrea stared at Fernando for a few moments before leaning back into his chair and extracting some paperwork from his bag. 

“One of these days I’ll work out how that brain works,” he scoffed, gesturing to Fernando’s head and making him smile.

“Good luck with that,” Fernando laughed. He stood up and crossed the small room, heading to the water tank in the corner and filling two paper cups full of water. He returned to the desk to see seven files of paper on the desk with three pages of notes on each. He moved some of the singular pages around to clear small gaps to put the cups down and then sat, looking wide eyed and shocked at Andrea. 

“You picked the wrong four days to go on strike,”

\- - -

The de-brief had been long. His head was spinning from all the information that had been thrown at him. And if that wasn’t enough he had a mission briefing later on that afternoon. He focused on pouring the coffee into his mug and not spilling it on his hand. They had finished in time for lunch, but Fernando still had four enemy agent profiles to read through and understand before the mission brief. No matter if anyone else was lost in action, he would have to pull himself out of it sharpish. He felt like he was trying to complete a project for a deadline that everyone else had already done. He put the coffee strainer down. 

“Good to see you back on your feet,” Jenson said as he stood beside Fernando leaning on the counter. Fernando didn’t look at him, just focused on finding the right sort of sugar. 

“They were sore, they needed resting,” Fernando said in his usual tone, flicking through the packets like they were in a filing cabinet. 

“I’ll bet,” Jenson joked, but it fell flat. The Brit looked back at the table he had come from to be presented with four faces urging him to ask Fernando what he had come to ask. He turned back to Fernando scratching the back of his neck and looking at the floor. “Look, the thing is, mate,” The word momentarily phased Fernando but he pushed past it. “We were trying to plan Mark’s Memo-”

“-You knew him well, I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Fernando said, finally extracting the right sugar and ripping open the packet, letting the small particles disappear into the black liquid in his mug. 

“I’m sure we can, but we just wondered if you could-”

“-I’m sorry. Ask Seb. He was his partner. He can help you,”

“But you-”

“-Someone else but me. I can’t help you.” Fernando gave Jenson an apologetic look before he turned his attention back to his coffee lifting the milk.

“Fernando, we all know you knew him best. It will help you get closure from it al-”

“-I cannot help you,” Fernando said, milk poised it the air awaiting to be poured into his coffee. He looked over at Jenson and gave him a ‘drop it’ look.

“Fernando,” a German accent said, making Jenson jump out of his skin. 

“Fucking hell, Seb! You scared the shit out of me!” Jenson exasperated at the young German suddenly appeared from behind Fernando. He put his hand on his heart and blew out a breath. Fernando didn’t flinch and proceeded to pour the milk into his mug. Jenson looked perplexed at the Spaniard. “You’re used to him popping up out of the blue?”

“I saw him coming,” Fernando said, looking back over at Jenson and putting the milk down. Jenson was confused, but Fernando turned away from him and focused on Seb. “You fell out of step by the vending machines,” 

“I though I recovered it well,” Sebastian muttered.

“I’d already seen you. Is irrelevant after that.” Checking Jenson had returned to his own table, Fernando walked off towards his where the agent profiles sat awaiting to be read. Sebastian followed him and sat in front of him. 

“I heard you’re on the next mission,” he said, making Fernando look up from the profile.

“Is my job. What we are all here to do,”

“But, I just though-”

“-I am looking forwards, not back,” Sebastian frowned at Fernando. He wasn’t happy about how normal he was acting. Only five days had passed since Mark had gone and here he was sitting as if nothing had happened. 

“But you’re not even a little sad,” Sebastian stated. Fernando put down the profile.

“I need to read these before the meeting later,”

“So you’re not sad. You’re just moving on like everything is normal?”

“Everything is normal,”

“No it’s not!” Sebastian glared at Fernando, smacking his palm down on the table, willing to see some kind of emotion from his expressionless mask. But the Red elite had done too well and Fernando had had too much training on forcing away feelings that threatened to have him running down the halls back to his room. 

“You need to calm down,” Fernando said, lifting his mug to his lips and opening the file on the table, looking down at it. Sebastian’s anger flashed through him and at a desperate attempt to cause some kind of emotion from the Spaniard he whipped his hand out towards the mug poised in mid air. Fernando’s empty hand caught his wrist a fraction of a centimetre from contact. “Calm down, Sebastian, you’ll do something stupid,” Fernando added, releasing his wrist without taking his eyes off the profile he was reading. Sebastian stood up and lent low over the table so his face was very close to Fernando’s.

“If it was the other way round, nothing anyone said to him would make him feel better,” Sebastian spat in a low tone, grapping Fernando’s attention. Some part of Fernando that he thought he had locked away knew Seb was right. Seb lent closer, making his voice quieter. “And he definitely wouldn’t be sitting here reading reports, he would be making sure, defying orders and searching.”

Sebastian pulled himself to his normal height and looked down on Fernando with a look of pure loathing. How could he be so fine about it? Fernando’s expression was unchanged, almost bored. It just spurred on Sebastian’s anger and he wanted to lash out, beat Fernando until he permanently broke that false, fake, defensive expression. Ruined his stupid mask so it was not repairable. His fists clenched hidden from sight by the table. It became clear quickly that Fernando wasn’t going to add anything. Seb scoffed at him in disgust and pushed his chair back with so much force it overturned and crashed to the floor; making some others around them turn and look to the sound of the commotion. Sebastian didn’t care. He left the chair on the floor and turned away from Fernando.

“You don’t understand and you can’t,” Fernando said in an even tone, hoping no one but Sebastian would understand the second meaning behind his words. 

“I’m understanding something about the precious Red elite,” Seb crossed back over to Fernando so the new listeners to the conversation couldn’t here his comment. “They break you down until you can’t feel anything anymore. You’re nothing more than a trainable robot,” Fernando gripped onto Seb’s forearm that was leaning on the table instinctively. Too easy. Too easy to vent his anger on Seb. One swift punch to the bridge of his nose in a downward motion and his blood would spurt from his nostrils in a ghastly fashion. But that wouldn’t be enough and it wouldn’t be fair. It wasn’t Seb’s fault; he just couldn’t understand. 

“You don’t understand,” Fernando repeated adding a little pressure to his grip until his saw Sebastian wince. He slacked his grip and let the German pull free, returning to the profile sat open on the table. “And you never will,” 

“I think I understand more than you think,”

“No, because if you did you would be in disbelief not anger. You wouldn’t be able to work out how I did it,” Fernando watched the confusion creep into Sebastian’s eyes before draining the mug and picking up the profiles, planning on retiring to his quarters to get some quiet so he could read them. He turned his head to Seb as he stood, placing the empty mug in the German’s hands. “Don’t look up to those who can let you down,” Fernando walked away, not looking up to see those who had turned watch him leave. 

“Don’t think you’re so special! I wouldn’t want to waste my time!” Sebastian yelled after his retreating figure. Once Fernando had disappeared around the corner and out of sight Sebastian let himself deflate, falling into the chair Fernando had just vacated. “Not again, anyway,” Seb sighed to himself. 

Fernando kept walking past his room, because there was somewhere else he needed to go. It was empty, obviously, and he just prayed that no one saw where he went. He pulled the desk chair over to the door, wedging the door handle up and turned on the corridor security camera that was connected to the room. No one was there. He crossed the room and pulled open the wardrobe finding the item of clothing he wore so much in the past. The Red elite would go spare if they saw him striding around wearing the purple fleece jacket. But this wasn’t about the team; this was about him. 

He pulled the zip up close so it engulfed the lower half of his face and inhaled the thick, Australian scent the fibres released. Falling happily onto Mark’s bed, Fernando sat himself up and started working through the profiles. He always worked better with Mark by his side.

\- - -

He would have thought it would have been hard to escape Mark’s sleeping quarters without being seen. It was surprisingly easy. He took off Mark’s jacket and stowed it in his bag after extracting the appropriate files he would need for the mission briefing and placing them on the bed. He didn’t want to open his bag and fight around the purple material with the possibility that someone would ask what it was. So, as he left, he was carrying the files in his arms. 

His journey to the strategy room was uneventful and when he arrived he wasn’t the first. Jenson and Nico were already sitting in their designated seats beside their mission-engineer agents, Dave Robson and Tony Ross. Fernando took the free chair next to Andrea and looked across the table at the vacant seat where Sebastian should have been sitting. Guillaume Rocquelin (or Rocky as most called him), Seb’s mission-engineer, looked down at his watch nervously. The door opened again and Kimi strolled in, looking extremely bored with the whole charade and holding a mug. When he looked over his shoulder and no one had followed him he placed the mug harshly on the table and disappeared out of the door again. The seven men around the table exchanged confused looks whereas Fernando just stared at the door, waiting. He knew whom Kimi had gone to get. 

The door opened again revealing a pissed looking Sebastian who was trying to straighten his collar. Fernando could almost imagine the conversation… “I don’t need to man handled, Kimi, I’m capable of walking,” “Then why am I out here again?”… Just as Sebastian sat down next to Rocky, Kimi returned to the room and, collecting his mug on the way, sat down in his chair next to Mark Slade. A general murmur began but Seb kept changing his glare to be directed at Kimi and then Fernando. His arms were folded tightly and his jaw was set. Rocky was desperately trying to talk to him about something but it was clear Seb wasn’t listening, concentrating instead on glaring at the two men across the table from him. 

“How are you holding up?” Andrea muttered quietly in Fernando’s ear. Fernando turned to face him, pulling his eyes from Seb, slightly confused. 

“I’m fine,” Fernando matched Andrea’s murmur; this seemed to be a conversation just for the two of them. Andrea gave him a disbelieving look. 

“Where have you been?” Fernando looked down at his hands. 

“I went to my quarters to read this in quiet,” Fernando said quietly, tapping the documents he had placed on the table as he sat down. 

“I don’t think that’s quite right,” Andrea said, kicking Fernando’s bag into the Spaniard’s leg. Fernando looked up at him in a sorrowful way; an expression full of pleading. Andrea lent close to his ear. “He was your friend, you are allowed to be sad,” The word ‘sad’ triggered something in Fernando and he felt weak, vulnerable. He pulled his emotionless mask back on and turned back to Andrea, feeling some confidence in himself. 

“I am not sad. Am fine,” Fernando said, staring deep into the Italian’s eyes. Andrea pulled a bit of purple fluff off Fernando’s shoulder and dropped it to the floor, making sure the Spaniard saw it. He knew where it had come from; he had seen Fernando wearing Mark’s team fleece before. And he knew that Fernando would seek it out after their meeting. Fernando was predictable in that sense. His actions were always logical. That is how Andrea knew that Fernando had it stowed in his bag when he entered the room carrying his files. No risk of it being discovered. 

“So I’ll assume you’ll be taking that back then?” Andrea added. They held each others eye for a moment and Andrea took it as confirmation that Fernando had no intentions of letting the jacket out of his sight ever again. He clapped his hand on his shoulder as he straightened up, turning to the man who had just walked in. General Ecclestone had come in a door at the back of the room rather than the door the agents had used. He took the chair at the head of the table and was followed by Lieutenant Horner, Domenicali, Whitmarsh, Boullier and Brawn. The six new entrants to the room settled themselves in their chairs and a hush fell through the room, everyone turning to face Ecclestone. 

“Thank you all for coming so promptly, apologies for the last minute call but it seems this must take place before P-Orsche develop it anymore,” Ecclestone said as he stood up, passing around a hand out. As the paper fell into Fernando’s hands he frowned down and the diagram he had been handed and passed the papers onto Kimi. It looked like some sort of engine but to move a car was not it’s purpose. Fernando swallowed, not sure if he wanted to go into the logistics of the machine he was looking at. It looked silent but deadly and that unsettled him.

“Your mission is to break into the P-Orsche Head Quarters, using the entrance Agent One found after your last mission, and retrieve this. The mission is coded Hurricane. We shall refer to this as the Hurricane Heist or Double H,”

“And what does it do?” Jenson asked, still frowning down at the basic diagram in his hands. Ecclestone smiled at him like he was a young child who could never understand. 

“It’s purpose is of no interest to this mission,” Ecclestone concluded, turning away from the table and looking out of the window. He loved to listen to the way they planned, each respective agents input. It was the easiest way for him to work out the best pairings of agents and who needed to go. The Lieutenants began sketches and attack pathways whilst the agents fell into a discussion about the best way to go about this, who would do what, what weapons they would need and so on. Sebastian remained silent for a while, just letting them all talk. He was still glaring at Fernando. 

“Are we sure this is the best team for this mission?” Sebastian cut through Nico’s point and making everyone, including General Ecclestone who had been pouring himself a drink from the small bar, stop what they were doing and look at him. Sebastian kept his arms folded and spoke directly to Fernando. Fernando let the confusion sweep onto his face. 

“General Ecclestone chooses the teams, Agent One,” Horner said in a tone that said ‘don’t question him he is your boss are you insane?’ But Ecclestone held his hand up to Horner, muting him, and kept his attention on Seb who was still staring at Fernando. Fernando met his casual stare with a gaze of confusion. 

“But you think I am wrong in my selection?” Ecclestone challenged. Sebastian nodded, still staring at Fernando. “Why? I have never been wrong about my decisions before,”

“Doesn’t make sense why you would choose someone so unfathomable.”

“Unfathomable? I didn’t think anyone in this programme was unfathomable,”

“Maybe unpredictable is a better word,”

“What is your point?” Fernando snapped, making everyone turn to him. Ecclestone seemed almost too happy for someone else’s participation to the discussion. He sat in his chair and linked his fingers, resting his chin on them with a complacent smile. 

“Maybe there wasn’t a point,” Seb seemed to deflate at Fernando’s challenge. It appeared that his anger had been transferred across the table. Fernando couldn’t believe Sebastian could seriously be accusing him of this. Because of course it was Fernando Sebastian was implying to be unfathomable and unpredictable. 

“You’re talking about someone in particular, and I think we’ve all got a pretty good idea of who you’re talking about,” Fernando seethed. Jenson scratched the back of his neck awkwardly whilst Nico stared at the ceiling. Kimi, as he had been throughout the whole charade, was staring at the door with a longing expression. Seb finally dropped his gaze from Fernando and looked down at his hands. Fernando folded his arms. 

“Agent Three knows what is expected of him, General. Neither of these accusations are true,” Domenicali added, also glaring at Seb. 

“Maybe not from what you see, Lieutenant,” Ecclestone mused. Domenicali looked back at General Ecclestone in disbelief. Fernando’s eyes remained trained on the German sitting in front of him. “Because I’m even now starting to question my own motives,” Ecclestone got up and started to pace around the table. Everyone’s eyes but Kimi, Fernando and Seb’s, were following Ecclestone’s every movement. Fernando continued to stare at Seb whilst Seb stared at his hands and Kimi at the door. “Because, and correct me if I am wrong, but I do not recall seeing much of Agent Three in the past few days. Correct?” No one answered. There was an awkward silence ebbing around the room and Ecclestone came to a stop, surveying them all. Fernando kept his eyes on Seb. 

“That’s correct.” Fernando said, making the German look up at him in confusion. 

“So, this leads me to question my motives. Agent Four has been around a lot, helping us decode various files and work out the best plan of attack. Whereas Agent Three has been vacant for almost all of his meeting in the past…”

“Four days,” Fernando finished, watching the confusion set into the lines of Sebastian’s face. He was sure everyone was looking at him in a very similar way but he wasn’t looking at them. His attention was all directed at Sebastian. 

“So why did I select you?” Ecclestone said, moving into Fernando’s line of vision. He still didn’t look away from the German.

“Because his skills are superior to most on this program and you’re very aware of that. You know he has been in missions similar before and can remain calm in the high-pressure situations and he is the best sniper in the F-1 Elite and it never hurts to have that quality on a team,” Andrea said in a calm tone. Ecclestone looked on the protective manner of Andrea before resuming his pacing. 

“Or maybe because I’m testing him?” Ecclestone suggested, moving back to his chair. Fernando’s confusion at that statement broke his hold of Sebastian’s gaze and he frowned over at Ecclestone. 

“Testing me?”

“This is not a rescue mission.” Ecclestone said definitively. “Whatever you may see, whatever you might hear, whatever you think you might be able to do, you cannot. The purpose is to retrieve this machine and not to try and be a hero saving anyone. Do you all understand?” Ecclestone had been addressing the entire room but his eyes fell on Fernando as he asked his question. But Fernando had more burning ones that needed to be answered. 

“Wait, what do you-”

“-This is not a rescue mission and you are not to try and rescue anyone.”

“Yes, fine, but-”

“-The mission will commence in three days. Be ready and you will have briefs with your mission engineers a day before. Good luck.” Ecclestone concluded before getting up and heading out of the room. Everyone else stood, piling their papers, new sketches and designs together to get ready for the mission. Fernando pushed past everyone heading straight for Ecclestone.

“Wait! General Ecclestone!” Fernando called in a panicked tone. Ecclestone stopped in the doorway and turned to Fernando. He waited with innocent eyes, looking up at his agent that was much taller than him. “What do you mean? Do you think Ma- Agent Two is still alive?”

“If P-Orsche thought they could get information out of him or use him to their advantage, like provoke a rescue mission, then they would have kept him alive,”

“And you think they have?” Ecclestone looked at Fernando with questioning eyes, suddenly feeling as if Sebastian’s point about being unfathomable was indeed very true.

“This is not a rescue mission, Agent Three,”

“But you think he’s still alive,”

“I wasn’t lying about testing you. You’re good, possibly the best, but you can easily be taken off that spot. Don’t fall because it’s a long drop and it won’t have a pretty ending,”

“But I just-”

“-Agent Two is of no concern of yours. Or is there another reason he should be on your priority list?” Fernando swallowed feeling he had let out too much. 

“No, Sir,” Fernando said, looking at the floor and giving Ecclestone even more of a reason to keep an eye on him.

“Then I will not here you questioning about him again?”

“No, Sir,” Fernando said, getting a strong sense of déjà vu from four years ago. Saying things that had no truth to them. Ecclestone didn’t say anything else. He turned around and disappeared through the doorway. Fernando turned around with a small spark of joy in him. It was possible, even if slightly, that Mark was still alive. He picked up his bag and files and walked out of the room, heading to the larger debriefing room to discuss some more tactics with the other agents. 

“Fernando,” Sebastian called. He had been leaning on the wall, waiting for Fernando to reappear. Fernando was more interested in catching Andrea and asking him if he knew any more about Mark. Seb caught the strap of Fernando’s bag that wasn’t on the Spaniard’s shoulder and brought him to a stop. “I’m sorry-”

“-Thought you might be,” Fernando said, turning to walk away again. Sebastian caught him. 

“What I said… I was angry, I didn’t mean it,”

“You did. It’s true,” Fernando looked down at him and added sarcastically: “Thanks for bringing it to Ecclestone’s attention though,”

“You did that all by yourself,” Sebastian murmured a little too loud and Fernando felt a fresh wave of anger flood through him. He pined Sebastian to the wall with such speed that the German barely had time to realise he was moving. 

“Say that to my face if you’re going to say it,” Fernando snarled. Sebastian swallowed his fear. 

“You did thought! What did you expect? Wallowing in self pity for four days and no one was going to notice,”

“You got over it pretty quick for someone being very judgemental about how fast I appear to have gotten over it,”

“I haven’t even begun to understand how to get over it,”

“That rationalizes your unexplainable anger then,” Fernando mused, loosening his hold of Sebastian. There was a momentary pause. 

“Appear?” Fernando frowned at Sebastian in confusion. 

“What?”

“You said appear: 'how fast I appear to have gotten over it',” Fernando held his frown but the dread was setting in his stomach as the realisation spread over Sebastian’s face. Then the pitiful look in his eyes that made Fernando feel weak. 

“I don’t know what-”

“-You haven’t even started. This is a front. You’re pretending for the team… You haven’t even started to-”

“-It doesn’t matter now, anyway,” Fernando said, letting go of Seb and walking away from him. There was a chance Mark was still alive and he wasn’t going to give that up. He didn’t need to grieve someone who wasn’t dead; he needed to find him. 

“Fernando,” Seb said, reaching out to catch Fernando again. Instead, he caught his bag and through Fernando’s passing movement it fell off the Spaniard’s back and swung into Sebastian’s knee. It didn’t hurt which was confusing. Sebastian frowned down at the black rucksack in his hand and noted it wasn’t very heavy but it was bulging. Normally agents would carry a laptop or a theory book or files in their bags, but Fernando had his files in his hands. “What the fuck is in here?” Seb mused, resting the bag on his knee and unzipping it. 

“No!” Fernando was too far away to stop it. He hand was reaching forwards but by the time he had crossed the five feet that were between them Sebastian had extracted the purple fleece so alike the one he was wearing and lifted it out of the bag. For a moment, everything stopped. Fernando was glad everyone else had already gone on ahead of them. But it didn’t take long for Sebastian to link the dots. His eyes darted from Fernando to the jacket and back to Fernando. Sympathy and pain filled Seb’s expression and he looked like he was about to cry. Fernando snatched his things from Seb’s hands and thrust the jacket back into the bag, zipping it up and swinging it back over his shoulder, leaving the German to hold back the things he wanted to say to Fernando. Sebastian felt a physical pain for Fernando and felt wretched for what he had said and what he had instigated in the mission brief. 

“Oh, Fernando…” He sighed, waiting for the man in Red to disappear around the corner before he slid down the wall pressing his palms to his eyes. What had he done? He still felt like Mark’s disappearance was his fault. 

And this just made that feel one hundred times truer.


	5. Hurricane Heist (Or Double H)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tell me would you kill to save a life? Tell me would you kill to prove you're right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the dialogue has been inspired from the lyrics of the song. If you've heard the song, you'll know which ones they are and will probably hear them sung rather than as dialogue (I know I do :P)  
> I obviously don't own the song or any of it's rights : )  
> Nice long part for you because it has been SO long since this has been updated! Apologise for that :P  
> This chapter is solely inspired by the song.
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to go, but he had to. That one, tiny spark of hope kept him going, clipping his weapon vest tight. They were using the new bulletproof undershirts the Cosworth Elite had developed; so bulletproof vests were not needed. Not that Fernando was complaining; when he was in a heist mission he liked to be able to move. Out on the field it was different. 

So instead of the usual short sleeved shirts and thick vests, he was sporting a long-sleeved shirt, with red edging, his combat trousers, boots and a thin jacket that hid his weapon vest. Each item of clothing was black to help him blend into the shadows. Fernando pushed his spare cartages onto his belt and fixed his radio headband on his head. He looked at himself in the mirror. It was odd to be preparing for a mission with the knowledge Mark hadn’t been here before hand. Whenever they had gone out of separate missions – without each other – the other would come to their quarters and help them get ready. Fernando loved having someone here to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. Now the weight of that feeling was beating on his shoulders. He checked for the fifth time that he had everything. There was nothing more to check for. 

He crossed to his wardrobe and pulled out his Astra A-100. He looked down at the gun, the gun he had used when he left Mark with his Heckler & Koch UMP-9. He took a moment where his fingers absent-mindedly brushed over the cold surface of his Heckler & Koch UMP-9. Or what was now his new Heckler & Koch UMP-9. The Red Elite had had to replace it because Mark had had his when he disappeared. They weren’t happy about it, but it was a necessity. Fernando slid the Astra A-100 into the compartment that ran down his side and zipped up his jacket. He briefly brought the purple fleece that was hanging, hidden between his own clothes, to his face, inhaling deeply, before he let it slid from his fingers and shut it away, back to its safe hidden spot. He crossed his room and shut the door to his quarters without looking back. Now he had to focus. 

Because in his opinion, if it came to it, it was a rescue mission. 

\- - -

The van was pretty much silent. With only the five of them, the smaller recovery van was taking them back to the P-Orsche headquarters. Fernando was loading and unloading his pistol, trying to keep his hands busy and not think back to the last time he was on that cliff top. Jenson and Nico were sat together, exchanging a glance every now and then, Kimi was – alike Fernando – sorting out his weapons, making sure he had enough back-up amo. Sebastian was watching Fernando. Fernando hadn’t said anything to him since he found Mark’s jacket in the Spaniard’s bag.

Sebastian had been searching for the perfect moment to re-break the ice between them, but it seemed like Fernando wasn’t interested in his words. And that hurt Sebastian. Because he didn’t want Fernando to hate him. There had been talk of Fernando replacing Mark at the Bull elite and Sebastian would have welcomed Fernando with open arms. But Sebastian knew Fernando wouldn’t leave the Red elite. Especially to replace Mark. Replacing Mark would be his moment of acceptance that Mark was truly gone. 

The rumble of the engine cut off abruptly and Fernando closed his eyes, his gun waiting to be reloaded. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths and calm himself as he listened to someone cross in front of him and slide open the door. The night was just as cold as it was when they lost Mark and Fernando could feel his breath slipping. He couldn’t do this. Whatever had made someone think that sending him back to this place was a good idea was wrong. He instinctively pushed himself away from the door a fraction, not wanting to open his eyes, not wanting to leave the van. The silver lining of hope that Mark was just being held prisoner had disappeared at the return of the cold night air. Fernando remembered the bullets ripping through the air, how close he himself had been to being killed. His forearm tingled slightly in the memory. But Fernando was sure if Mark had been behind him he was dead. And he couldn’t take that thought process. 

“Hey.” A calm voice pushed deep into his ear, taking hold of Fernando’s shoulder gently. Fernando couldn’t place the voice. He knew it was one of the other four he had ben travelling with. “You all right?” Fernando told himself to shake his head but he found himself nodding. No, he wasn’t all right. The hand on his shoulder tightened. “You need to open your eyes now, Fernando.” With one last deep breath, he opened his eyes and blinked up into the face of Jenson. Jenson lent back a little and held out a balaclava. “Come on.” Fernando snatched the balaclava out of Jenson’s hands, undignified at how he was being forced to get a move on. Could no one understand that this may be a little hard for him? Jenson patted his shoulder lightly as Fernando sat toying the material in his hands. 

He watched Jenson walk out of the van and leave him alone. Fernando was confused by the Brit’s actions. Had someone told him to get Fernando out or had he left him to give him a moment to prepare himself? Fernando wasn’t sure, but he found that the aloneness only brought Mark to the front of his mind and he really couldn’t afford that today. 

From the control centre that was buried underground a mile or so from the P-Orsche headquarters, Andrea glared down at the tracker screen willing the little red dot to move and join the others. He could sense Ecclestone was doing the same and the impatience from Montezemolo was filling the small space. Andrea would have radioed to Fernando but there was too much risk of being overheard. His eyes didn’t move from the little red dot, still separated from the others. 

“Come on, Fernando…” Andrea muttered to himself, adjusting the headphones and microphone on his head to a more comfortable position. 

“Someone tell me that Agent Three has left his tracker in the van and not that he is still sitting in there.” Ecclestone said calmly with folded arms. Andrea swallowed nervously as Domenicali sent him a questioning look. Montezemolo was tense with anger. 

“There must be a slight delay from the tracker, he knows what he-” Montezemolo started. Ecclestone held up his hand to him. 

“-There is no delay. He either has it on or he doesn’t.”

“Do you want a report from one of the other agents?” Horner asked Ecclestone and Andrea scowled at him briefly before returning his eyes to the tracker screen. 

“I don’t think we have another choice.” Ecclestone sighed, looking over to the Red Elite’s section of the room. Just as Horner reached for the call button Andrea yelled, throwing his arms out to stop everyone. Ecclestone looked up at the large screen in the centre of the room to see, finally, the red dot move and join the other four. 

“All right?” Jenson asked as Fernando crouched beside him, balaclava covering his face and gun clutched tightly in his hands. Fernando nodded, letting out a small sigh of air. It was darker than it had been last time. Last time they had the full moon illuminating the playing field. This time they had cloud cover and only three-quarters of the moon to deal with. 

“Now everyone is with us,” Ecclestone started in all of the agent’s ears. Nico sent Fernando a look. “Let’s do a radio check, over.” He concluded and each of the Lieutenants for the elites gave a roll call in almost reverse numerical order. 

“Agent Nine, radio check, over.” Brawn’s voice filled all of their ears as they each turned their microphones on. 

“Radio check loud and clear, over.” Agent Nine replied, clicking his gun into place. 

“Agent Seven, radio check, over.” Boullier was next. 

“Radio check loud and clear, over.” The nonchalant voice of Agent Seven replied. 

“Agent Five, radio check, over.”

“Radio check loud and clear, over.”

“Agent One, radio check, over.”

“Errh…” Sebastian was thrown slightly at the fact they skipped Fernando. But shaking his head slightly he finished his call. “Radio check loud and clear, over.” There was a small pause where everyone, but Kimi, turned to Fernando. Fernando knew this was going to happen. He closed his eyes and waited for his call. 

“Agent Three, radio check, over.” That wasn’t Domenicali. Montezemolo’s voice sent a shiver down Fernando’s spine as he looked down at the floor. 

“Radio check loud and clear, over.” Fernando said confidently. 

“Now let’s try and remember why we are here, yes, Agent Three? You are not indispensable and the success of this mission will not be ruined by you.” Fernando looked up at the other Agents but they didn’t seem to be getting his message. It was from Montezemolo to him. And none of the others could hear it. They were waiting for the next order.

“Do not-”

“-This is not a rescue mission, Agent Three. Do not let us down.” There was a short pause where everyone’s weariness of Fernando’s actions was struck clear to the Spaniard. No one trusted him here, which made him believe that they knew something they were not telling him. There insistence to keep him on mission was too much to just be a friendly warning.

“Is there something I need to be told, Sir?” Fernando asked and Agent Five turned round to look at him with a crazed expression, his eyes giving him away through the slits in his balaclava. There was silence down the radio for a moment. When it came back it was Horner’s voice that could be heard. 

“Agent One, head down to the entrance get yourselves inside, then into cover, over.” Horner said and Fernando knew that was the last he was being told about things other than this mission. He sighed as he followed Agents Five and Seven down a small cove and onto a sloping staircase. The five of them were running openly down the stone corridor and Fernando wondered just how vulnerable they all were. If there were static machine guns lining the wall or a firewall that could descend at any point how would their feeble bodies hold out against the sudden attack? Fernando suddenly felt so out of his depth that he could barely breath. 

“Do we know that there is no attack enforcements here? Over.” Fernando called, slotting into a dip in the wall to take cover. He slid down the wall until he was crouching and scanned the area, using the gadget on his wrist to pick up any heat waves to see if they were still alone. Only four detection were made: his fellow agents. 

“No. No the area could not be scanned without giving away where we were entering. Over.” Agent Nine’s voice called. Fernando peaked his head around the wall he as leaning on to see Agent Nine extracting a detection device from his rucksack. 

“There is no time to check safety. Move fast and you won’t get killed. Over.” Lieutenant Brawn called. Agent Nine stalled for a moment before pushing the detection device back into his bag. 

“If we get killed and cannot complete this mission because you-” Fernando started in an angered tone. 

“-Agent Three if you do not cooperate I will have no choice but to turn you off. Do you understand? Over.” Montezemolo was back in Fernando’s ear and he believed, again, that he was the only one receiving this message. 

“What would you like me to do then… Sir? Over.” Fernando asked through gritted teeth. 

“Get out of cover and move forwards. Over.” Agent Stella said in a softer tone. Fernando swallowed harshly. He didn’t want to think about what was going on back at the control centre. And the fact that Andrea was speaking to him now gave him great comfort. With a deep sigh Fernando pushed himself to his feet and moved out into the hallway. Agent Five hung back slightly as they all began to move forwards until he was running in line with Fernando. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Agent Five mouthed to Fernando and Fernando just nodded. 

“Peachy.” Fernando mumbled back. By time the five of them were at the door Agent One was all ready spinning the combination dial and unlocking it. Fernando crouched along the wall with Agent Five and Seven, guns poised covering Agent One. When the door finally did give, with a shuddering clang that Fernando believed everyone in this Headquarters would have heard, Agent One hauled himself up into the small circular hole it revealed and dropped into the room beyond it. Agent Nine followed and they all entered the P-Orsche Headquarters quickly, diving into cover as son as they hit the floor. 

“We’re in, over.” Agent One said. It was cold, stupidly so, and Fernando watched as his breath travelled away from him in a puff of a cloud. That wasn’t going to help them remain undetected. Fernando looked to his other agents who were all sharing the look of concern he was. Apart from Agent One. 

“Where the fuck are we? Over.” Nico said suddenly, wrapping his arms around himself. Fernando felt his muscles slowly fall into spasm as the cold leaked into his body. 

“It’s the cooler lab. Get out of there and take four rights then two lefts. Over.” Horner was back and that urge to defy rose in Fernando. Probably would have done for longer if he weren’t freezing his balls off. He rushed after Agent One, keeping close until they reached the next door and he set about checking that the corridor was clear. 

“How do we know we haven’t been detected? Over.” Agent Seven asked as finally all five agents were crouched by the door. 

“Can you hear an alarm? Over.” Lieutenant Whitmarsh barked. Agent Seven rolled his eyes. 

“No, Sir. Over.” Agent Five answered, putting his hand on the door handle. 

“Then you haven’t been detected. Move out, over.” Whitmarsh finished. 

“Doesn’t mean anything.” Fernando heard Agent Seven mutter as they moved out into the corridor, grateful for the sudden warmth. Fernando was weary too because Agent Seven was right. If the P-Orsche agents were clever, which Fernando was sure they were, then they wouldn’t let the F-1 agents know they had been seen. They would lure them into a trap. Fernando swallowed the thought away as he fell into formation with the others, keeping his gun poised and ready with his finger on the trigger. 

Fernando was in front as they took the third right. He saw the watchman guard first. He sent the bullet into his chest that would have punctured through his lung and slowly filled it with blood. He led the group over the dead body coughing up blood and gasping for air as they continued on their path. It was brutal, but Fernando never thought about the millions he had inevitably killed. The people whose families would be given a sinister letter one day that explained how their husband or brother or lover or child was killed in action, but how he died honorably, and how that word was supposed to make the mourners feel better. 

At the end of the instructions they stopped and looked across the open space they were heading for. So vulnerable. There was no cover. It could be a desperate dash or slow and trying to cling to the walls. The slow technique would probably see you lying on the floor; muscles twitching slightly and the enemy filled your body with more bullets just for fun. But a quick dash could startle and cause havoc. It could reveal them. Fernando looked around him, taking in the stairs to his right, the pile of crates about twelve foot to his left the high balcony that ran around the top of the room. He turned to the other agents and was about to ask what the plan of action was. What there next move was. The words never passed his lips. He never got his chance to air them. Because all logical thoughts were wiped from his head in one clear motion. 

“AAAHHHHHHH!” A sudden bloodcurdling scream echoed from the stairs and filled the room. Fernando’s head shot upwards to the direction he believed it had come from. Nobody moved. Nobody said a word. Fernando was stone still. It was a man’s voice. There was no way a woman could make a sound that low but high at the same time. He felt the nausea crawling up his throat as the horrid images that had been haunting his dreams filled his head. Fernando’s eyes frantically danced across the ceiling. 

“What was that?” Agent Nine asked quietly. Agent Five pressed his finger to his lips.

“What was what? Over.” Lieutenant Boullier asked. No one answered. All five pairs of eyes were trained on the ceiling. Fernando didn’t want to hear it again. But then he did. He did because it meant he could believe Mark was still alive. He didn’t want to think about what they were doing to make him make that sound but Fernando recognized his voice. It was too familiar to miss. He took a deep breath and-

“-FUCK! PLEASE STOP! FUCK! I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT!” The voice yelled again and it was too obvious. It was too obvious now that it was Mark. Fernando began to push himself to his feet but Agent Seven caught his shoulder and held him down. Mark was alive. Mark was alive and Mark was talking. Fernando could feel the emotions getting stuck in his throat. He couldn’t believe it. He never thought he would hear Mark’s voice again. 

The dull thud of something hard making cruelly fast impact with something had the small smile wiped completely off Fernando’s face. The clatter that followed only had Fernando imagining someone had hit Mark and he had crumpled onto the floor. Fernando shook his head desperately, his eyes widening. Agent Seven’s hand on his shoulder tightened. 

“Report. Over.” Domenicali barked. Again no one answered. Everyone was too shocked. A few moments passed before the orders were barked at them again. “Anyone report. What’s going on down there? Over.” 

“I don’t know… Please… I don’t know… I don’t know what you want from me…” Mark’s whimpered words sounded muffled and Fernando panged to go to him. He rose onto his feet but again Agent Seven pushed him back down to his crouch. Fernando glared at him.

“Let me go.” Fernando said harshly to Agent Seven. Agent Seven shook his head and placed a finger to his lips. Fernando sighed. 

“It could be a trap.” Agent Five reasoned. Fernando didn’t want to hear it. 

“Oh good. And this means we just leave him to get the shit beaten out of him? Sorry, did not want to fall into your trap today. Just let them kill him.” Fernando spat sarcastically, trying to force Agent Seven to release his shoulder. 

“Agent Three, this is not a rescue mission. Over.” Domenicali was back in his ear. He didn’t care if everyone or no one could hear him. He was getting to Mark. They should have known he would. If they knew Mark was still around they should have know he would break from the pack to rescue him. They should have known. If they were worried about it then they shouldn’t have let Fernando come. The sound of something whipping through the air quickly and slamming down on something was followed by another holler of pain from Mark rang through the air. Fernando felt his eyes prickling as he pulled Agent Seven’s hand from his shoulder. He’d taken four steps before someone grabbed his ankle and he surged onto the floor, smacking the side of his face. He growled slightly as his face throbbed and he turned over his shoulder to see Agent Five holding onto his ankle. Fernando tried to shake him free but the grip only tightened. 

“What is going on? Over.” Horner’s stressed voice called. Fernando tried the window of opportunity, because if anyone would let him go it was most likely to be Horner.

“Is Mark. Have found Mark. Can rescue Mark.” Fernando panted, still trying to pull out of Agent Five’s grip. There was a long silence on the radios where no one knew what to do. Agent One was sitting with his knees pulled close and his arms wrapped around them, watching Fernando’s struggles with a pained expression. The silence pulled out and each of them began to become uncomfortable. No one knew what was going on. No one was saying anything. Fernando looked back up at the ceiling again, hoping and not hoping to hear another sound of life from Mark. 

“This is not a rescue mission, Agent Three. Over.” Horner’s voice broke across the silence and Fernando felt fresh anger pulse through him. He kicked out at Agent Five who finally let go of his foot and got to his feet.

“What?” Fernando yelled in outrage. 

“Cross the… Cross the room and follow the corridor. You’re looking for a black door with an obvious dent in it. Over.” Horner finished. Fernando didn’t move as the others got to their feet and poised their guns, some forwards and some up.

“So you are going to leave your agent to die when we could save him?” Fernando shot down his radio. Agent Five sent him a pained look. 

“Cross the corridor, Agent Three. Over.” Montezemolo commanded. Fernando still remained where he was. 

“Why should-?” Fernando started. But he was cut off.

“-No… No, please… You don’t… No! NO! FERNANDO! FERNANDO, PLEASE! HELP ME! FERNANDO!” Mark screamed. Fernando didn’t even think twice.

“Fernando!” Agent Five yelled, breaking from the group to run after Fernando who sprinted up the stairs. Agent One gripped his wrist.

“Jenson, don’t.” Agent One muttered, trying to pull Jenson back. Jenson turned on him. 

“He’s going to get himself killed!” Jenson spat, shaking out of Agent One’s hold. Agent One stared at the floor. 

“We have to carry on with the mission.” Jenson blinked at him, utterly gob smacked.

“What?”

“We have to… We have to go on without him. We have to complete the mission.”

“I’m going to help Fernando.” Jenson stated, taking a step towards the stairs. 

“We are not loosing two.” Agent Seven grunted as he grabbed Jenson’s shoulder and pulled him across the open hall and down the corridor. Agent One and Nine followed guns at the ready. But no one shot at them. Jenson had a pretty good feeling as to why. They were using Mark to lure them into a trap. Fernando had taken the bate.

“Someone has got to help him! He’s going to get himself fucking-” But Jenson’s words were cut short as the floor of the open hall buzzed into life. Jenson was stopped as step from death as Agent Seven pulled him back and threw a stone that had been wedged in the tread of his shoe onto the floor. Electric. 

“We’ve been detected.” Agent Seven said as he left Jenson to stare at the floor in shock. “What door? Over.”

“Black door. Obvious dent. Over.” Agent Slade said and Agent Seven nodded, leading the way down the corridor. None of them had the option but to follow; there was no way back to Fernando now. As Jenson past Agent One he shoved his shoulder.

“If he dies its on you.” Jenson muttered and left Agent One to soak in his words. 

Fernando hadn’t heard any of the conversation after he had left. His head had drowned out any sound as he focused on trying to find Mark. But the silence was eating at him. He couldn’t tell where Mark was unless Mark was yelling, but if Mark was yelling then Mark was in pain. Fernando pushed himself forwards down a long corridor and found himself bursting into a large square room with lots of police interview rooms off it. He spun around quickly taking it all in. But he couldn’t see Mark. He couldn’t see anyone. 

“Mark?” He called, stupidly. But Fernando shook his head. He knew what he had heard. He knew. It was Mark’s voice. Mark had been calling. Mark had been in pain. He walked around the room and started throwing the interview room doors open. Searching each one more desperate then the last. He had opened about four.

“Fernando…. Please… I want Fernando… Don’t kill me… Let me see him first… Please…” Mark’s soft begs were coming from a room behind him. Fernando turned painfully slowly, his eyes resting on the door he believed Mark was behind. At this tipping point he could barely push himself to walk forwards. He didn’t want to see Mark broken and beaten and begging for death. Fernando breathed through his mouth and gripped his gun tighter in his hand, finger stroking over the trigger. He lifted it in front of him in both of his hands and moved forwards slowly. Each step adding to the anxiety growing in his stomach. He was close to the door. Within touching distance. He took a breath, steadying himself. 

“AAAHHHHHHH!” Mark screamed again and Fernando forgot all of his inhibitions. He kicked into the door handle and burst into the room. Gun ready to shot. Jaw locked. His eyes flashed around the room. Taking in everything. The desk. The chair. The player on the desk. The mirrored wall he knew was just a window. The small window at the top of the wall opposite him. The water tank in the corner. The distinctive clinical smell. 

But no Mark.

Fernando dropped his gun to his side as panic shot through him. He looked everywhere, under the desk, behind the door. He was sure. He was so sure he had heard Mark yelling from this room, from this place. But he wasn’t here. There was nothing. Fernando’s breath caught in his throat as the tears pushed down his cheeks. He couldn’t have been imagining it. The others had heard it too. The others had heard Mark yelling. The others. Fernando had abandoned them. But they had each other. They were fine. Mark was alone. Fernando moved over to the small window. He looked out. He saw nothing. 

“-FUCK! PLEASE STOP!” Fernando spun around at the speed of light, lifting his gun with wide eyes as Mark began to yell again. There was still no one but him in the room. He was pointing his gun out into the main room he had entered from. “FUCK! I DON’T KNOW!” Fernando’s eyes fell on it. In the centre of the desk. The player. It had a dictaphone plugged into it. It was a recording. Mark’s calls were pre-recorded. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT!” Fernando ripped the dictaphone from the speaker and threw it across the room. He was filled with anger. How could he be so stupid? How could he not think? Now he was no closer to finding Mark and had those cries and pleas for help etched into his head. He slammed his palms into the desk in frustration. He turned his back, deliberately moving away from his reflection. 

“That took some time, didn’t it.” Someone stated in a sadistic tone. Fernando froze. Because he was looking at the dictaphone discarded by himself on the floor. There was no way the voice was coming from it. No way at all. For good measure, Fernando stamped his foot on the small black machine and felt it crack into tiny pieces below it. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I thought you were a lot smarter than that.” Fernando still didn’t turn. Couldn’t turn. He shook his head slightly. He could be imagining it now. There was no one here to tell him he wasn’t. “You came straight to the call of your name. Such a good boy… Fernando” Fernando hated it. It wasn’t right. There was nothing right about the tone, the pitch, the meaning. Fernando shook his head more rapidly. “You going to turn around or am I going to have to stare at the back of your head all day?” Fernando knew it was stupid to listen to voices in his head, but the sudden softness to the voice made him oblige. He turned, slowly, head moving first. It was confirmed it was all in his head when he was looking at no one but his reflection. Fernando sighed, looking at the floor. “How about you put that gun and any other weapons you’ve got on the table and we can have a little chat.”

Fernando looked down to the gun in his hand and frowned. No. No he wasn’t going to let the voice in his head rid him of all the protection he had. Anyone could come in and find him and he needed to be prepared if they did. Fernando shook his head again, tightening his grip on the gun. No. he thought. If you want to talk we do this with a gun.

“You don’t think I’m actually here, do you, mate?” The voice asked. Fernando closed his eyes again. It was the sudden smash of glass that made him look up. The mirror window had fallen into a sprinkle of glass which now littered the floor. Fernando’s frown dropped into shock as the man climbed through the now open frame and into the room. He looked unscathed, he looked healthy, he looked strong. So different to the visions his voice had depicted. Fernando couldn’t believe he was actually there. It wasn’t possible. It simply wasn’t. “Can you put the gun down now?” Mark asked softly. Fernando felt his grip tighten more. 

“I…” Fernando tried but his throat had gone dry. Mark was still wearing his F-1 Elite uniform, but there was something different. Something that made Mark different. Fernando reached forwards with the hand that wasn’t holding the gun to touch him. But Mark stayed just out of reach. 

“Gun?” Mark suggested, his eyes soft. Fernando still didn’t move. “What, don’t you trust me?”

“Of…. Of course, Mark…” Fernando breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Then put the gun down, Fernando.” Fernando felt light-headed. He couldn’t move because he was scared if he did everything would vanish and he would just be staring at his reflection. Mark seemed to sense this as he moved forwards, letting Fernando’s hand brush his shoulder. Fernando watched his hand as it travelled up Mark’s neck and into his hair. Mark took the gun easily from Fernando’s now slack grip and placed it on the desk. “Here…” Mark said, his eyes catching Fernando’s. Fernando’s breath caught as Mark took hold of the back of his balaclava and pulled it over Fernando’s head. One of the things they were never meant to do: reveal their face to the enemy. That’s why they wore the balaclavas. But Fernando didn’t care. Fernando wanted to feel Mark map out his favorite path across his skin with his lips. “Let’s have this a little more private, yeah?” Mark offered Fernando the chance to refuse before pulling the radio from Fernando’s head and putting it on the desk along with his gun and his balaclava. He pushed the hair out of Fernando’s face and took in Fernando’s still shocked expression. He noted the dark rigs around his eyes. Mark smiled at Fernando, locking their eyes together again. “Hello.”

“Hi…” Fernando let out breathlessly. Mark gave a small laugh before he pushed his lips to Fernando’s and felt the Spaniard melt into him. Fernando gripped tightly to his back. This was too much all at one. He felt elated. He couldn’t get enough. And Mark was laughing at his desperation. But Fernando didn’t care. Fernando was never going to let him out of his sight again. “Am… Am… Sorry” Fernando said, puncturing his words with kisses. Mark pushed him back slightly by his shoulders and smiled down at him, wiping the tears from below Fernando’s eyes. 

“Why?”

“Should have come and found you… Should have waited… Wanted to… Just…”

“Shh, Fernando, it’s all right.” Mark sighed, pulling Fernando into his body. “I’m all right. I’m here. Happy. Alive. Fernando, I’m here.” Fernando clutched at his back before Mark released him. Placing a quick kiss on Fernando’s forehead he stepped around the Spaniard. Fernando watched him. “Take a seat, mate. Do you want some water?” Mark asked calmly. Fernando nodded, taking the seat opposite Mark so he could still watch him. Mark placed two cups of water between them before sitting in front of Fernando and linking their hands. “I’ve missed you.”

“Have also.” Fernando said, sighing contently.

“I’ve been in here for about three days I think. Before that they had me downstairs.” Mark said, still glowing happily as he stared into Fernando’s eyes. Fernando didn’t know what to think. “They got the recording on one of the first days. I can’t remember exactly what was going on. I just knew they wanted me to say something. And they were fucking hurting me.”

“Mark, please do not-” Fernando didn’t want to hear what Mark had been subject to. He was just glad he had him back. 

“-They’ve got a really good medical unit here. Really good. It’s weird how much damage you can do to someone and have them looking as good as new.” Mark smiled and Fernando feared he was referencing himself. “Were you looking for me?” Mark asked, turning Fernando’s left wrist over. His fingers danced over the scar their. Their scar. Fernando let his eyes roll shut. 

“Yes…” He breathed. Maybe it wasn’t completely true. Maybe it was a half lie. But Fernando liked to believe he was looking for Mark. Constantly looking and not just moping on his bed. Mark smiled and placed a soft kiss to Fernando’s wrist before continuing drawing over it. 

“I knew you would. I told them. I told them you would come and find me.” Mark grinned, watching his fingers as they danced over Fernando’s skin. Fernando suddenly frowned becoming extremely aware of where they were. 

“You told them about me?” Fernando said. Mark didn’t seem to notice the sudden change of Fernando’s tone. The sudden worry and panic that coated his words. The Australian kept drawing patterns up Fernando’s arm with his fingers. 

“I knew you would come. You promised. I knew you wouldn’t break that.” Mark smiled as if Fernando hadn’t spoke. 

“Did you tell them that as well?” Fernando shot, dragging his arm from Mark’s hold and getting up. Mark frowned up at him, completely confused. 

“What?”

“How much did you say? What did you tell them?” Fernando reached forwards to grab his balaclava from the desk and pull it on. Mark grabbed his wrist. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“We need to go now.” Fernando said, trying to get out of Mark’s hold. Mark’s grip tightened. 

“We don’t need to do anything.”

“We have to go to the others, Mark. We have to go.” Fernando was still trying to pointlessly get out of Mark’s hold. He was pushing his wrist painfully into the desk. Mark’s eyes were locked on Fernando’s.

“Why?” Mark asked, annoyance coating his words. Fernando blinked at him. 

“We’re on a mission, Mark.”

“Yeah, but you found me. I’m here. Mission accomplished. You’ve been fighting to get a rescue party together, right? You’ve… You’ve been demanding that you come back, yeah? You’ve come to rescue me. This is a rescue mission…” Mark said, eyes frantically searching Fernando’s. Fernando didn’t say anything. He could barely hold Mark’s intense gaze. Mark swallowed. “Because that’s what I meant. That’s what I would have been doing. I’d have come back here and tore the place apart before I believed you were… You’ve come here on a rescue mission. That’s what you’ve done because that’s what you promised you would do.”

“Mark, are hurting my arm.” Fernando winced. Mark’s grip had intensified as he had been speaking. 

“That’s right, isn’t it? You’ve come here for me, yes?” 

“Mark, please let go. Is hurting.”

“Answer the question, Fernando.” Mark said, his voice dangerously dropping to a dark tone. Fernando looked at him with tears in his eyes. He couldn’t lie to Mark. He just couldn’t.

“Is not a rescue mission.” Fernando muttered, still wincing at the pain in his wrist. Mark’s eyes widened. “I… Am going against orders being here. Was categorically told this was not a rescue. But I have to come when I heard… Couldn’t leave without-” Fernando’s words were cut short as the desk made painful contact with his stomach and he was thrown backwards. The things that were on the table fell, scattered around the floor. The gun slid towards Fernando. 

“So when you told me you had been looking for me… That’s bollocks?” Mark spat. 

“No, Mark, I-”

“-Why are you really here? Just to clear your conscience?”

“Mark, please-”

“-Who are you really here for, Fernando? Me or yourself?”

“Just come… Just come back with me…” Fernando said, moving to get to his feet. Mark threw a chair at him and he threw himself back on the floor in order to miss the contact. The gun was very much in his reach. 

“I’m not going back. I’m staying here. Why would I go back? They appreciate me here. They think I’m good. They want me.” Mark sneered. Fernando shook his head. 

“What about me? What if I want you?”

“That’s why they let me up here, Fernando.” Mark’s sudden changes of tone were freaking Fernando out. Mark moved over to him and cupped his face. “They told me if I could get you alone you could stay too. We can stay together. They don’t mind what we have. We wouldn’t have to hide. We could do what we wanted.”

“Mark this is crazy…” Fernando panted. 

“It’s not, Fernando. I told them how good you are. They want you too.”

“And what about the others? Agent Five, Seven, One, Four? What about our friends, Mark?”

“What about us, Fernando?”

“So you would happily kill them all? You would happily put your bullets through their head?” Fernando said, hoping Mark could see the insanity of his words. It didn’t seem to faze Mark. He held Fernando’s face tighter.

“If it meant I got you.” Mark said. He obviously thought they were endearing words. They just scared the fuck out of Fernando. 

“What have they done to you?” Fernando said desperately, feeling more tears bloom in his eyes. Mark stroked his face softly. 

“They’ve opened my eyes, Fernando. They’ve made me see the better things in life.” Mark’s soft voice was making Fernando cringe inside. 

“They’ve turned you against your friends.” Fernando gasped, horror too clear in his voice. Mark frowned slightly. 

“They’ve just shown me the real enemy.” Mark said defiantly. Fernando shook his head. 

“No. Have made you the enemy.” Fernando stated, more tears falling down his face. Mark lent back from him. 

“What?”

“If you will happily kill anyone from the elite, what means you will not kill me?” Mark opened and closed his mouth a few times before he could form words. 

“You’re not on the elite. You’re staying here with me. You’re not the enemy, Fernando.”

“No…” Fernando sighed. “No, Mark. You are. Have made you the enemy.” Fernando had barely finished talking when Mark’s hands slid down his neck and clamped over his windpipe. Fernando’s eyes widened as he gasped for air, falling back on the floor, clawing at Mark’s hands. Mark had dark determination in his eyes as he increased the pressure. Fernando’s body ripped with panic as more tears poured from his eyes. 

“I won’t let you go back, Fernando. You’re staying with me. You’re staying here.”

“Ma…. Ple… Ca… Can… Bre…” Fernando tried to pull Mark’s hands from him again by he couldn’t make the Australian budge. His head was feeling dizzy and spots were appearing in his eyes. He knew if he could calm himself he could buy himself a few more minutes of life. But it was Mark. It was Mark’s hands preventing him from breathing. Fernando relied on his instincts as he got a foot in line with Mark’s chest and threw as much force into it as he could. Mark flew back off him and Fernando rolled on his side, gasping for air. Momentarily. He rolled over and grabbed his gun from the floor, rising shakily to his feet and pointing it at Mark. Mark looked up at him, shocked for a moment, before a dark, sinister grin covered his face. 

“Put the gun down, Fernando. We both know you’re not going to shot me.” Mark spat. But he didn’t move. Fernando looked down at his hand. Poised with a gun was a normal sight for him. But his hand was shaking. His hand never shook. He always managed to keep steady and controlled when in high-pressured situations. When he had to think on the spot and change his mind at the last minute. But pointing the gun at Mark was wrong. Fernando shook his head. 

“But you would shot me?” Fernando asked, his voice horse from Mark’s attack. Mark snickered enigmatically.

“That depends if you’re the enemy.” Fernando blinked at Mark in total confusion. But his vision swayed upwards as he fell heavily on the ground, slamming down on his back. Mark let go of his ankle and got up, towering over him. He stood on Fernando’s wrist until the Spaniard cried out in pain and released his hold on the gun. Mark kicked the gun out of sight and Fernando dove forwards for his radio. “No you don’t.” Mark grabbed Fernando’s hips and threw him against the wall. Lights popped in Fernando’s eyes and gave him a split second of warning that Mark’s fist was directed towards his face. He rolled along the wall and fell out of the door, hearing Mark yell in pain as he smashed his fist into the concrete wall. Fernando shot his hand back into the room to grab his radio before sprinting back down the corridor he had entered the room from. Fruitlessly trying to work out how to use the thing in his hands as he ran, Fernando heard the echo of a second set of footsteps rushing after him. 

He took the steps two at a time, turning the dials on the radio in his hand and trying to get it to work. Mark had obviously tried to turn it off when he took it from Fernando but had changed the channel instead. Fernando ripped the earpiece from the headband and dropped the headband on the floor. At the bottom of the steps, Fernando turned right, heading to cross the large open hallway in pursuit of the rest of his team. Mark caught his collar and threw him back on the floor, picking up the discarded fabric Fernando had just dropped. Fernando got to his feet and made to move past Mark and down the corridor he had been commanded to at the beginning of the mission but Mark pushed him back again. 

“I don’t think you want to cross that, mate.” Mark said, lazily throwing the material over his shoulder. It touched the floor and was violently electrocuted. The flashing and buzzing of the current burning it only subsided to reveal a smoking mass. Fernando’s eyes widened as he looked from the smoke to Mark. He had to believe the others had got through find. He had to believe that. He crawled backwards away from Mark a bit. “Where are you going to run to now?” Mark sneered, that disgusting smirk pulling at his lips. Fernando pushed himself to his feet and sprinted along the corridor no longer aware of where he was heading. “You can run forever if you want, Fernando!” Mark yelled from behind him. Fernando ripped open a door to his right and dove inside, slamming it behind him and dragging a chair over to wedge the handle up. He looked around the room; very similar to the one he had sprinted from, just bigger. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment. The red mark across his throat seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. Fernando turned his back to the reflection and put the radio on the table, fiddling furiously with the dials and placing the earpiece to his ear. 

“Hello?... Hello?... Is Agent Three…. Agent Three calling to report, do you copy, over?” Fernando spoke furiously trying to get some kind of response. “Please… Somebody answer…. Is Agent Three. Agent Three, over.” 

“Aww… Are they not responding, Fernando?” Mark mocked from the other side of the door. Fernando tried to push his voice from his head but he couldn’t. It was sickening. Fernando hated the P-Orsche more for what they had done to him. He wanted Mark back. Not this. This wasn’t Mark. Mark twisted the handle and Fernando was relieved to see it stopped. “Aha! Clever… What have you done, put a chair in the way? You’re stuck in there anyway. Only one way out… But if I just…” Mark mused. Fernando’s eyes watched the door as he felt the vibration of Mark’s foot kicking into it. Mark was going to force his way in. Fernando clutched the radio close to his chest and spun around. There had to be a second exit. He knew if Mark got in something bad was going to happen. Fernando couldn’t just turn his back on the elite. The elite had made Fernando who he was. The elite had given him his friends, the people he would put his life on the line for. The elite had brought Mark to him. 

“I’m coming in, Fernando. It’ll be easier if you just calm down and come with me…” Mark breathed heavily. He was panting. Trying to get through the door was knackering him. Fernando slid the radio into his pocket and grabbed the second chair, raising it in the air. 

“And if I come? What does this mean?”

“It means you stay with me. We stay together… Here.” Mark said, his voice sounding a little softer. Fernando shook his head as more tears rolled down his face. 

“Cannot do that. Cannot become what you have become… And the Mark… Mark Webber that I love would not be able to either.” Fernando shot before throwing the chair at the mirror. It worked. It sent shards of glass flying everywhere as the chair broke through into the small room behind it. Fernando climbed through quickly, ignoring the multiple stings across his arms and face that were most probably cuts from the mirror. He threw the door open and left the room as Mark broke into the first room. Sprinting, again, down the corridors, Fernando checked his tracker on his wrist. He could see them all moving around, the other dots. Four of them. Fernando exhaled happily. They were all Ok. They were all alive. But they were on the opposite side of the building to Fernando. And he couldn’t tell what floor they were on. Thinking it was better than nothing Fernando directed his feet in the direction of the four other dots and headed through the long corridors. 

But somehow Mark was fast. Stupidly so. Fernando thought he had always been able to beat Mark in a race, sprinting down the corridors. But taking a glance over his shoulder Fernando noted he was advancing, quickly. As he flitted into a zigzag like direction to try and shake Mark, he started throwing anything he could grab behind him to force the Australian to trip. Files, boxes, shelves of stuff. Each to no avail. Mark was hot on his tail. Fernando took a risk. 

Diving into the closest room, Fernando threw himself behind the door and waited. The room, luckily, was extremely dark. Fernando heard Mark stop just inside the door, panting hard, and walking into the room. He knew whatever room they were in. Mark knew what it was. Fernando observed him from his hidden position move around, not walking into anything. 

“You don’t mean that…” Mark said, pushing a desk over his voice critically angry. It clattered noisily to the ground and Fernando tried to work out where they were. What kind of room they could be in. “You don’t mean what you said.” Another desk crashed to the ground and Fernando had to rely on his ears to work out where Mark was. “You know I’m here. You know the guy who didn’t rat you out for stealing pills is here. You know the guy you tell your secrets to is here. You know I’m here, Fernando. The man you love is here and you know it. Maybe I’m not on the surface anymore but you know I’m here…” Mark’s voice was getting more annoyed and a smash of metal crashing to the ground made Fernando flinch. “That’s why you can’t kill me.” Something heavy hit the wall three inches from Fernando’s head. “You’d prefer to run around here all day because you know that means not actually having to kill me. And you couldn’t do that. Even if the elite ordered you to.” Another desk crumpled to the ground. “That’s why you’re going to stay here and not go back.” Fernando shook his head with more tears staining his face at Mark’s last words. He couldn’t stay. And if that meant leaving Mark behind then so be it. 

Because Mark was right: Fernando couldn’t kill him. 

Fernando ran from the room, hoping to have finally rid himself of Mark. He was hoping Mark was still searching for him in the dark room. As he ran in the direction his tracker said the others were, he pulled out his radio and tried one more time to get the signal. A sudden cracking in his ear was replaced by voices. Voices he knew. 

“Look, we know it’s down there. Someone is going to have to go.” Agent Five was saying. Fernando felt his heart beat increase. He picked up his running. 

“Two go down and two stay up?” Agent Seven suggested. 

“Sounds good. Ok, Agent Seven and One prepare to descend. Agent Five help Agent Nine set up the descent apparatus and then cover them. Over.” Lieutenant Brawn ordered. Fernando gasped a breath of relief. 

“Hello? Hello can you hear me? Agent Three reporting, over.” Fernando yelled as he ran, pressing the earpiece to his ear. There was sudden silence on the radio and Fernando feared he had lost the connection. “Hello?”

“Fernando?” Agent One said, clear shock in his voice. Fernando’s relief tripled. 

“Yes! Yes! Agent One I can hear you. Can here you, over.” Fernando smiled gleefully, still sprinting in the direction of the four dots. 

“Where are you? Are you hurt?” Agent Five called.

“No… Am running… Am running…”

“And Mark?” Agent Five asked, his voice breaking. Fernando refused to answer. 

“Where are you? Am heading towards-”

“-Negative, Agent Three. What are you running from? Over.” Brawn interrupted. 

“Negative what? Over.” Fernando asked, seeing the opening of a large hall-like place. 

“Do not join the others. Negative clearance. What are you running from? Over.” Fernando would have stopped in his tracks if he weren’t so afraid of what would happen if he did. 

“What?”

“You’ve created a diversion, Agent Three.” The more sympathetic voice of Andrea explained. “We’ve had no problems since you have left. We’ve had no interruptions. Do not run the threat to the mission.” Andrea sighed. Fernando was shocked. This couldn’t be happening, but it made perfect sense. Fernando didn’t know what to do. It’s not like he could run anywhere else. This was the path he was set on. And he was nearly at his destination. 

Before he got chance to answer Andrea or anyone for that matter, hands collided with his shoulder blades and pushed him forwards sending him to sprawl on the floor. The radio flew from his hand and skidded a few metres up the hall. Fernando tried to get back on his feet but Mark forced him onto his back and lifted him by his collar. Fernando forced a foot between them but Mark swung a fist into Fernando’s face rendering his right eyes useless as it poured water across his face. Mark reared up to hit him again. 

“Do you really want me, Fernando? Or is this just so you can act the hero and have everyone love you?” Mark spat, punching Fernando again. Before Fernando fully recovered from the impact, Mark hit him again and let go of his collar, watching as Fernando sunk to the ground beneath him. Mark got off him and moved over to the radio. Fernando scarpered after him as Mark lifted his foot to stand on the communication device. Fernando pushed it from under Mark’s foot but instead got the force Mark would have applied to the tiny black device to his arm. It fucking hurt. Fernando recoiled his arm before remembering the radio. Mark scooped it up in his hand, looking down at him. “Why is this so important to you? They don’t care. You’re disposable.” Fernando pushed himself shakily to his feet. 

“Mark, please… Need it…”

“Fernando, I care about you. They don’t! They don’t care about you or about us! You’re living a lie with them! You’re not you. We can let you be you. We can be us!”

“No, Mark! We can’t! We can never be us! Is not how this works!” Fernando screamed, throwing himself forwards in a desperate attempt to get the radio back. Mark caught him and pushed him against the wall, bringing their faces close. 

“You don’t get it, Fernando. Here we have freedom. There we have lies.”

“Is always lies, Mark!” Fernando kicked into Mark’s stomach and set him back slightly. Slightly winded, Mark returned to advance on him. Fernando grabbed his arm and forced him down to the floor. He kicked into Mark’s face and watched him crumple backwards, blood pouring from his nose. His hand instinctively reached for his gun holster. But it was empty. The gun was upstairs with his balaclava. Mark perched himself against the other wall and dabbed a finger under his nose, catching some of the blood and staring at it. 

“Fernando, if you’re not with us then you are against us.” Mark shot, getting to his feet. Fernando clenched his fist. 

“If you are not on the elite then you are the enemy.” Fernando passed back, his voice cracking and revealing how badly he wanted that to be false. Mark threw a knife to Fernando, lodging it into the wall three foot from his head. It was a deliberate miss. He held his hands up. 

“Well if I’m the enemy you might want to do yourself a favor and kill me.” Mark snarled. He watched Fernando not move. They just stared at each other, trying to work out what to do next. Fernando pulled the knife out of the wall suddenly and threw it to Mark. Mark caught it smoothly by the handle. 

“Or you do the favor. Made sure I was weaponless earlier. Now I am.” Fernando just stood. And Mark advanced, pushing him against the wall and holding the knife to his throat. One smooth drag to the right and Fernando would be dead. His blood would be pooling on the floor. Mark held the back of Fernando’s neck with his other hand tightly, bringing their faces close. Resting their foreheads together. 

“I don’t want to do this.” Mark growled through gritted teeth. His eyes were closed tightly. Fernando swallowed, feeling the pressure of the knife as he did. 

“Come back with me.” Fernando tried but Mark just pushed the knife closer to his skin. 

“I…. I can’t….” Mark choked. He had his body pressed extremely close to Fernando’s. Fernando couldn’t move. Mark had locked him in place. 

“Cannot stay…” Fernando muttered, persuading Mark’s lips to his. Mark closed the gap, pushing them together. Fernando hated himself for what he was doing, but Mark’s grip on him slacked as he sucked lightly on Fernando’s bottom lip. Fernando pushed him backwards and slammed his foot into the back of Mark’s knee, making it bend. He pushed the back of Mark’s neck forwards until his forehead slammed onto the floor. Holding him in place he stamped repeatedly on his wrist until he let go of the knife. Fernando grabbed it from the floor and threw it down the corridor before leaving him and rushing towards the open area. Mark sprinted in his pursuit. Just before Fernando fell into the open space he grabbed a metal pole off the wall and turned on Mark. Mark walked over towards him, holding a very similar pole in his own hands. Fernando walked backwards slowly as Mark advanced on him, holding his pole out defensively. 

“The promises we made were not enough.” Mark yelled at him. Fernando’s eyes widened as he saw the real emotions of Mark rising to the surface. Fernando couldn’t deal with it. 

“Will never play the game again.” Fernando gasped. Mark frowned at him. Had there promises on the roof just been a game to Fernando?

“You promised you would never lie to me!”

“And you promised you would never hurt me!”

“The secrets that we told were never known, Fernando! No one ever knew. And look what it’s done to us!” Mark sobbed. Fernando could feel his own eyes running down his face. 

“I guess are both liars here then.” Fernando said in a heart-broken voice. Mark snapped. He rushed towards Fernando until the Spaniard’s back smacked into the hard wall behind him. Fernando lifted his bar and it clanged loudly in the empty, echoing room with Mark’s as he threw it down to hit him. Mark put pressure on Fernando’s trying to force him down to the floor. Fernando held his ground. 

“The love we had, Fernando… The love we had… We had to let it go!” Somehow Fernando had managed to bring his Mark back. He’d managed to bring his Mark from within the wreck of a human he had been presented with. Fernando let go of one end of his bar to cup Mark’s face. From his touch, Mark’s bar fell loudly to the floor. He pushed his forehead to Fernando’s and held his face. Fernando brought his other hand to Mark’s face and tried to dry the tears off his face. 

“Would never give it in again…” Fernando said, pressing his lips to the dents on Mark’s face that he had put there. He looked back into Mark’s eyes. “Would never give it up again.” Fernando promised. He kissed Mark but soon felt himself being propelled through the air. He hit the floor with a hard thump that had his head spinning. Mark picked his head up by his hair and forced Fernando to look at him. 

“But you did!” Mark yelled before bringing the pole harshly into Fernando’s side. Fernando just about managed to duck to miss the second swing towards his head. He clambered down the stairs noisily, clutching at the pain ripping up his skin and Mark followed. He threw one pole, missing Fernando by about a foot but the second slammed into his shoulders, sending him flat on his face. Mark grabbed him and punched him in the face. Fernando felt his skin splitting as Mark punched into the cuts he had received earlier from smashing the mirror. The intense heat on his face and the reddening of Mark’s hand. Mark pushed him backwards so his back bent over the handrail in the centre of the stairs and held him tantalizingly on the edge. “How do I know you won’t do it again!”

“Believe me! Promise, Mark! I Promise!” Fernando tried to pull himself back up to safety by using Mark’s arm but it was locked out straight, holding him in place. 

“You’ve broken promises before. Too many of them. They don’t mean anything from you anymore.” Mark spat, pushing Fernando slightly more over the edge. Fernando looked down over his shoulder. It was at least two flights of stairs to the bottom. He turned back to Mark with begging eyes. 

“Please… Believe me, Mark… I cannot…”

“Stay here. Stay here with me and then I will believe you.” Mark commanded. Fernando tried to pull himself back up but it was only effective enough to slip him a few inches backwards. 

“Mark, I-”

“-Give up everything. If you give up everything but me I’ll know what’s important to you.”

“Mark-!”

“-I would, Fernando! I’ve told you I would. I would kill all of my friends for you!” Mark said through gritted teeth, tears streaming down his face again. Fernando tried to shake his head but the slightest of movements could send him over the rail. He gripped Mark’s arm tighter. 

“Just let me-”

“-I won’t let anyone else have you, Fernando. If I can’t have you no one can.” Mark said, inching him backwards. One little push would send Fernando to the floor. Fernando looked up at him with wild eyes. “Are you staying?”

“I…. I… Ca… Mark… I love you…. But-” Mark didn’t let him finish his sentence. He pushed him backwards, watching as his body plummeted to the floor. His limbs flailed out uncontrollably and he yelled. Fernando screamed as he fell. That was it. The freedom of flight before the pounding of death as he smacked into the floor. Mark couldn’t watch. He pushed himself against the far wall and closed his eyes. Only when he heard the impact did he breath out. Mark opened his eyes slowly. Breathing deeply, he made himself walk down the stairs. Slowly. Each step sending a thousand sparks through his body. Mark looked and where Fernando had fell as soon as it came into sight. 

It was wrong. Fernando groaned in pain and Mark ran over to him. He’d landed on the discarded insulation padding that had been wrapped around one of the heater tanks. He was still alive. Mark felt relieved and infuriated at the same time. Fernando lifted his head to look over at Mark, but let it fall heavily backwards. He was trying to catch his breath, the fall having knocked at of the wind out of him. Mark dragged him up to his feet and shoved him into the interview room at the end of the corridor. Fernando could feel the pull of unconsciousness dragging him backwards. Away from Mark. Away from everything. He slumped and tripped forwards, smacking his chin on the floor. 

“Fuck.” Fernando breathed. He was happy to just stay there on the floor and just let the pain in his body overcome him. It wasn’t worth it. Nothing was worth it. Mark dropped him into one of the chairs and Fernando fell forwards, his forehead thumping painfully on the desk in front of him. Mark sat him back up. 

“Do you really want me dead, Mark?” Fernando muttered, his eyes closing. Mark grabbed his shoulder too tightly and shook him. Fernando winced and opened his eyes. Mark was glaring at him. 

“No, Fernando. I want you here.” Mark sighed. Fernando closed his eyes again. 

“Cannot.”

“What the fuck are you expecting me to do?” Mark snarled, slapping Fernando harshly across the face. Fernando blinked his eyes open, holding back profanities as the pain ricocheted through his face. Mark bitterly turned Fernando’s head back to look at him. Fernando tried to reach up to touch Mark’s face but his arm felt heavy and it fell away. Fernando looked deeply into Mark’s eyes. 

“Do you want me dead… Or alive… Living a lie?” Fernando asked, his voice weak and quiet. A frown of desperation sprung onto Mark’s face. “Love you, Mark… But not like this… This is a lie…”

“If this is a lie then our whole life has been and will be a lie.” Mark snarled. 

“Then would prefer to be dead.” Fernando stated, his voice not wavering, his gaze holding Mark’s. Mark clutched Fernando’s hand to his face and Fernando stroked his cheek. “Does not matter. Will be dead soon anyway.” 

“No you won’t. I’m not letting you. You’re staying here with me. No lies.” Mark said determinedly. Fernando gifted him a small chuckle. 

“Mark… Make it quick. Do not want to suffer.” Fernando requested. Mark shook his head. Shots could be heard suddenly firing from above and Mark looked up at it. Fernando kept looking at Mark. “They will make me suffer, Mark.”

“No, Fernando. I won’t let them.” Mark said, still not looking from the ceiling. Fernando pushed his hand into Mark’s face, the extra pressure making Mark look down at him. 

“They lie to you, Mark. These things they have told you you can have are lies. They will not let you have me…. I want you to do it, Mark. Put me out of my pain…” Fernando begged. Mark looked at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t. Mark couldn’t do it. Footsteps could be heard echoing loudly on the stairs and Mark turned to face them. They were running out of time. “Please…” Mark scooped Fernando’s face in his hands and kissed him. He kissed him as if the world was about to end. In some respects, it was. With tears running down both of their faces, Mark helped Fernando up onto his feet. They stayed closed. Mark rested Fernando against the mirror, kissing him again deeply. The footsteps were getting closer. Mark couldn’t tell if they were on this floor, the floor above of both. He knew they were close. Closing his eyes, he threw Fernando’s body into the mirror and felt it smash around him. Fernando gasped and yelled in pain, but Mark clamped their mouths together, preventing the noise from travelling far. Fernando’s grip on his tightened as he pushed the shard still attached to the wall deep into the side of his body. Then it fell limp. Mark looked down into his face, brushing the hair out of the way. He wanted his eyes to open. He wanted to see his eyes. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He kicked at the connection from Fernando to the wall until it snapped. Mark lifted him into the back room and laid him on the floor, pushing the shard further into his body for good measure and gaining a long deep cut on his palm. Mark wanted that. Mark wanted to feel the sharp sting of pain. He brushed Fernando’s hair out of his face and kissed his forehead before climbing back through to the interview room. He closed the door and put a chair under the handle. 

Sebastian couldn’t believe what he was looking at. Through the gridded metal bars that formed the floor of the vault with the machine he could see him. He could see Fernando’s body on the floor. Surrounded by glass. His eyes closed. A shard sticking out of his side and slowly dripping his blood on the floor. Sebastian felt sick. His eyes were wide and he couldn’t close them. He couldn’t move. Fernando couldn’t be… No. No Sebastian wouldn’t believe it. He tried to move, to blink, to do anything. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t even think. Because it was Mark who had pushed the glass into Fernando’s side. It was Mark who had broken the glass with Fernando’s body. 

It was Mark.

“What’s going on Agent One?” Somebody asked in his ear. Sebastian couldn’t even think to answer. Sebastian couldn’t even remember what words were. His jaw locked as he saw Mark re-enter the little room with Fernando. He sat on the floor next to the Spaniard’s head and softly stroked his hair. Sebastian couldn’t take it. Rage and anger and sadness all reared up inside him. 

“YOU FUCKING MONSTER!” Sebastian screamed down at Mark. Mark looked up at him, startled. But upon realizing who it was and where they were, Mark dropped his head, looking back down at Fernando. Sebastian sat up and tried to find a way through the bars. “GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM! LEAVE HIM ALONE YOU FUCKING TRAITOR!” Sebastian screamed. Agent Seven crawled through to the small space he had been occupying and began to drag Sebastian out. Sebastian screamed more, thrashing out and trying to get back. Agent Seven continued to pull him away. “LET ME GO! WE HAVE TO GO AND GET HIM! GET OFF ME! GETT OFF ME!” Kimi pulled Sebastian into his arms and held him still, letting him sobbed recklessly onto his chest. Sebastian clung to him tightly, his words and sobs combining to make the German sound like he was wailing. Kimi rubbed his back and tried to calm him. Sebastian began gasping for breath. 

“What’s going on down there?” Agent Five asked. 

“Have you got the machine?” Kimi asked back, still cradling Sebastian. 

“Yes, just loaded it to Agent Nine.” Agent Five confirmed. 

“And do we have a clear run? When did the bullets go?”

“They went down. All the way I think. You should be safe if you come back up.” Agent Five sighed. 

“We can’t…. We can’t just… le-lel-leave him th-there with that… that… th-that mont-monster…” Sebastian sobbed into Kimi’s shirt. Kimi pulled him closer. 

“You’ve got to go. There interested here for now. I’ve tried to buy you some time.” Everyone gasped at the sound of the new voice, including most of the team back at the control room. 

“Mark?” Agent Five asked, disbelief in his voice. 

“Did Agent Three find you? Where is he? Is he all right?” Agent Nine asked, hoisting the machine onto his back. There was a pause. 

“Agent Three is… Errh… Agent Three is down…” Mark breathed. Nico shook his head. 

“Because you fucking killed him you heartless wanker!” Sebastian yelled. Mark sighed, running his hand over his face. 

“If you’re going go now. You’ve got no time for anything else. When they get in here they’ll be heading for you. You’ve got about three minutes.” Mark said. 

“Why should we think you’re not just going to kill all of us too?” Sebastian spat, pulling out of Kimi’s arms. Kimi grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the stairs. When Sebastian tried to head down Kimi had to force him up and clamp a hand over Sebastian’s mouth to stop them from being discovered. 

“Mark… What’s going on?” Jenson asked. Mark rubbed a hand over his face. 

“Go now. If you go down one flight from where you are you can cross over the floor without it being electrified. Then go up the first stairs on your left and you’ll be back where you started. Leave whatever way you came in.” Mark finished instructing them and pushed the radio into Fernando’s pocket, not wanting to hear or give anymore. He moved over Fernando and laid down by his side, the side without the glass sticking out of it. He moved Fernando’s head so it was resting on his chest and cradled the Spaniard in his arms. He looked at the cut on his palm but he wasn’t worried about it. Not one tiny little bit. Fernando would bleed to death a lot quicker than he would and as Mark closed his eyes, pushing his nose deep into Fernando’s soft waves of hair he listened intently to his staggering breathing. It was only a matter of time. Mark let fresh tears roll down his cheek and he held Fernando closely, feeling the last moments of the man he love’s life. He placed a gentle kiss to his temple before stroking his fingers gently across the scar on Fernando’s left wrist. 

“I’m sorry, Fernando.” He muttered as he placed one last kiss on his lover’s face. “I love you.”

Mark held Fernando closer as the pounding on the door finally stopped and the P-Orsche agents filled the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh... Errh, heads up. The warnings have changed....  
> Just thought I'd let you know in case you didn't notice...


	6. Waking Up Is Worse Than Falling Asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crash crash burn,    
>  Let it all burn,   
>  This Hurricane's chasing us all underground

“We’re not quiet sure what we’re dealing with here. We need to evaluate the situation before we dive into treatment.” A voice called. He was being moved quickly. He could feel the movements of the bed. His eyes were heavy and refused to cooperate when He tried to open them. He internally groaned, with no noise escaping his throat, all the aches and pains springing to live across His skin. 

“Find out fast then, Hulkenberg. We do not have time to sit around waiting.” Another deeper, more insistent voice commanded. The bed was pulled abruptly to a stop and spun to the right. 

“There is only so much we can do at the moment. If they already started treatment then first we have to find out whether our treatments will harm or help. You need to give us some time.” The voice He assigned to the name Hulkenberg said. He felt gentle hands on His arm. “Can you get me the IV please, Esteban.” Hulkenburg continued. There was a small amount of shuffling around before He felt a sharp pain in the back of His hand. If He had the energy to move He would have screamed out in pain. 

“What now?” The rough, demanding voice barked. The hands never left his arm. 

“We have to test. Harm or help.”

“There is no way of telling without actually trying?” The rough voice seemed to falter slightly. He wondered if He was possibly of some value to the people in the room. That thought evaporated when something was jammed into His forearm. His body tried to scream out in pain, claw at what ever was going on, yell at whoever was doing it in a bid to make them stop. But He was restricted. Something was restricting Him. A frantic beeping started beside Him and the pain seized. 

“Shit…” Hulkenberg muttered, a loud clang beside Him indicating that something possibly heavy had been put down. 

“He’s not responding?” The rough voice asked. 

“If I would have carried on he would have gone into cardiac arrest.” Hulkenberg confirmed. He lay still, feeling freaked out by the possibility. What the hell was wrong with Him? He wanted to ask what was wrong but His mouth wasn’t responding. Nor His fingers or His toes or any of His body. “We’ll have to keep him under, try and work out what they were doing. Try and work round it.” Hulkenberg sounded stressed and it did nothing to settle Him. More loud bangs came from the direction of his feet and there was yelling. A heck of a lot of yelling. 

“STOP! YOU HAVE TO LET ME HELP! PLEASE! I NEED TO SEE HIM!” The person smashing through the doors screamed. He felt a need to get up and rush to the yelling person but His body wasn’t responding. He was getting more and more agitated with this inability to move the more He tried to. 

“Get him out of here.” The rough voice growled. The yells became more distant and pleading until they vanished into nothing. 

“He might be able to help.” Hulkenberg commented, pulling something from over His shoulders. He suddenly felt a cool breeze wave over Him and those soft hands travelled delicately over his stomach. 

“He is a prisoner. He is to come no where near here.” The rough voice commented. There was a click that sounded like a door handle and suddenly a busy distant sound filtered into His ears. “Make him better.” The voice commanded before the sound of the business disappeared. 

“What the fuck did they do to you?” Hulkenberg pondered as He felt the hands peel lightly at something at his side. The professionalism in Hulkenberg’s voice had gone and was replaced by pure confusion and worry. 

“What’s that?” A younger, more innocent voice asked as the thing on His side was taken away. 

“I don’t know.” Hulkenberg answered. Before He could register anything else the soft hands had pressed a finger into the newly exposed skin at His side and a flesh-ripping pain sparked all over him. He screamed, loudly. Threw his limbs out. Thrashed around. Retreated up the bed. All in His head. His body still wouldn’t cooperate with Him. He felt like He was trapped inside Himself. He needed Hulkenberg to stop. It was too much. The pain grew to such a level He thought He was going to pass out. He was trapped inside His own head. Banging on the walls of His skull to try and make someone relieve the pain. The fingers moved away rapidly as a different kind of beeping started up to His right. Relief crashed over Him and he breathed heavily. Slightly smoother hands that He believed belonged to the younger voice pressed something softly on the spot on his side and He felt almost content enough to sleep. 

“Nico… Nico, what was that? Why did he-?” the younger voice said from His left. 

“I don’t know, Esteban.” Hulkenberg’s voice was slightly muffled as it came from His right. It sounded like he was covering his mouth. 

“Well, what do we-?” Esteban tried again. Hulkenberg interrupted once more.

“-I don’t know.” Before He could hear anymore, something was pressed into the top of His left arm with a small amount of pain and poured a substance into his body. He tried desperately to fight the unconsciousness that seemed to surround Him but after a short fight he felt the voices and the pain disappear as he drifted to sleep. 

\- - -

“Why was it easy for us to get you back but not him?” Montezemolo asked through the microphone for the forth time, glaring at the figure chained by the wrists to the wall. He was slumped in the corner, a small smirk playing on his lips as he dropped his head. 

“He’s not going to answer you, Sir.” Daniel said quietly from his seat to Montezemolo’s left. His eyes stared at the controls in front of him as Montezemolo glared him down. 

“And how do you know that, Ricciardo?” Montezemolo shot. Daniel shrugged. 

“You’ve been here for twenty minutes and he’s made no move to talk. It’s just a guess, Sir.”

“You were brought in to the Bull elite to work things out, not guess.” Montezemolo stated turning back to the figure at the back of the room opposite him. He lent back down to the microphone. “If you do not cooperate with us we will not give you the reports on him as you requested.” Montezemolo spat. The figure chained to the wall looked up at his reflection, knowing the talker was standing behind the mirror/window. The smirk still rested strongly on his lips. 

“You need me more than I need him.” The guy smiled sadistically. Montezemolo released the microphone button and stormed out of the room. “He gets no information until he is willing to trade some.” Montezemolo spat over his shoulder to Daniel. Daniel looked sadly over at the guy slumped in the corner. He pulled the microphone over to him. 

“He’s gone now. Just me again.” Daniel said sympathetically. The smirk on the captive’s face disappeared instantly and a worried, pained look took its place. He sat forwards as far as the chains on his wrists would let him. 

“Please, Daniel,” he begged, voice cracking instantly as Daniel saw the emotional pain etched across his face. “You’ve got to tell me something.”

\- - -

Fuck. 

That really fucking hurts. 

Truly fucking painful. 

I would scream if I could pain. 

Fuck. 

He still couldn’t open His eyes. Not that He wanted to at this point. Somehow they had managed to get inside the splitting pain of a gash on His side and now they were probing around inside of Him. He could feel fingers poking and pushing. He felt sick at the mental image the movements brought. If He could move or react or do anything He would probably be vomiting somewhere right now. Nico and Esteban had gone quiet as they started probing around at the tear in his flesh. He bit back words He knew He couldn’t air anyway just to make him feel a little more human. Suddenly, something cracked. 

And that fucking hurt too. 

“Shit, Esteban, what the fuck was that?” Nico shot, panicked, as He felt the fingers pulled harshly from inside of him. That hurt even more as the echoing pain of whatever cracked began to reverberate through his body. 

“I… I don’t know…” Esteban muttered, his voice sounding weak and young. “Nico, what’s going on?”

“Be quiet, Esteban.” Nico chastened as fingers were pressed back into His side. He gritted his teeth against the pain, wanting to pull whoever’s hand it was out of Him and curl into a foetal position. Or, His mental teeth. He groaned in annoyance and pain at the fact He still had no control of His body. He was screaming inside but to everyone else he was calm and relaxed. 

“I don’t understand; nothing like this was given in training.” Esteban continued in his same panicked tone. 

“That’s because we’ve never dealt with anything like this before.” Nico said, fingers searching for the ‘crack’. He envisioned punching Nico in the face as the pain intensified.

“What are we going to do? What if he die-?”

“He’s not going to. Can you shut up now so I can concentrate?” Nico said, voice growing impatient. 

“Nico, I’m scare-”

“-Shut up, Esteban.”

“What if something goes wro-?”

“-Shut up.”

“What if there is nothing we can-?”

“-SHUT UP!” Nico roared. His finger suddenly slipped deeper into His flesh and the crack sounded again. He wanted so badly to writher in pain, to stop Nico pressing harder on whatever was digging deeper inside of Him. But His fucking body still wasn’t listening. Nico suddenly withdrew his fingers but the pained still raged through His body. “Call ahead to the OR. Tell them we’ve got a code blue-red.” Nico commanded. 

“I… I don’t…” Esteban started. 

“Fine. Stay here and prep him to leave. I’ll be three seconds.” Nico scolded as the door opened. He felt shaky hands pulling at velcro straps around His arms. What He wouldn’t give to be able to open His eyes and promise the Esteban kid that everything was going to be fine. Though right now He probably wasn’t the best person to do that. Not with the crushing pain that was making him bite down on His teeth so hard He honestly believed they would shatter any moment. Esteban pulled on the thing in the top of His left arm and suddenly His tongue felt loose. And His jaw tightened. His body was responding. He wanted to jump for joy but the first thing that happened was a moan of pain echoed from his lips. And then it grew louder. And then louder. And then louder still. He gripped tightly to the bed sheets, making some kind of increased beeping sound from some machine to his right. He didn’t care. He was in pain and with the sudden revival of His body everything suddenly felt intensified. He somehow managed to open His eyes but the sudden bright light stung and He moaned out more. He could feel his eyes trying to roll back into his head but He fought to keep his eyelids up. He saw a blurred, tall blonde figure rush into the room and roughly push a shorter brunette out of the way of the machine to His right. The machine He had made bleep more. 

“What did you do?” Nico yelled as He began to writher slightly, His grip still tight on the bed sheets. Esteban frantically dashed back to His left. 

“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I just forgot what I was doing and-”

“-You pulled his fucking sedation out?” Nico spat, outraged, over the bed. He took the opportunity for their distraction to move his hand towards the splitting pain in His side. He wanted to protect it from more probing fingers. “Strap his fucking wrists down.” Nico spat, moving round the bed and shoving Esteban out of the way. He could only see a little and His vision was blurry. He tried to reach for something, anything, but Esteban had grabbed his left wrist.

“I’m sorry.” Esteban pleaded in a shaky voice. Nico just shook his head. 

“I asked you to do one thing.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Esteban said as he finished trying down His wrists. He flexed His fingers crazily in a desperate attempt to break free. 

“You’ll need to boost it now. He needs to be completely under before we can perform the surgery.” Nico said bluntly. He shook His head. 

“No…” He croaked out, barely believing it was His voice. He felt the hand on his left arm pause momentarily before it continued its work. 

“It’s alright. We’ve just got to run a few more tests. Just go back to sleep. Everything is fine.” Nico tried to say in a cheery voice but it was strained by panic. 

“Liar…” He choked. It was too much. All of it: the pain, the lies. It brought back horrible memories and He didn’t want to think about them. He didn’t want to be remembering what had happened. He rolled his head slightly to look up at the blurred figure he believed was Nico. “Help…. Help me…” He breathed before his body juddered in pain again. Nico grabbed hold of his shoulder to try and restrain him, Esteban doing the same on the other side. He took a deep breath, hoping his voice would hold out just long enough for His next eight words. He tried to reach for his side but His wrist just strained against the straps. He looked up at Nico, forcing his eyes open. “Tell me… What… Tell me what is… Happening…. No…. No lies…” He rasped. Nico exchanged a look to Esteban. 

“There… We’re examining your side wound. It’s not responding to any treatment. We’ve… It’s just been discovered there is still something inside you. We’re taking you to OR… The, erm… Into surgery now to find out what’s going on.” Nico kept one hand on His shoulder as he began putting the sedation back in His arm. “You’ve got to go back under. We need you unconscious to operate…. I’m sorry.” Nico continued as he pushed the tube back into His arm. He tried to reach for Nico but his wrist was still restrained. There was one more question. Just one. He so desperately wanted to ask. But He could already feel the darkness dragging him back towards unconsciousness. Nico gestured for Esteban to unclip His right wrist and as soon as it came free He threw it towards Nico, gripping tightly to the front of his shirt. “What is it?” Nico asked, leaning closer to His face. He couldn’t stop His eyes rolling backwards as He focused on choking out His last question. 

“Where… How… Is Mark O…?” The question was never finished as Nico felt Fernando’s grip slack on him and his head fell back on the pillow. Nico sighed, looking over at the heart monitor and waiting for it to fall back to a regular beat. He smothered out the front of his shirt and unclipped Fernando’s left wrist. It also fell limply onto the bed. Esteban took Fernando’s right arm and brought it back across his body so tit lay down beside him. Together, the two SAU agents connected the necessary machines to the bed before preparing to wheel him out of the room. Nico gave a fleeting look to Fernando to check he was Ok before looking over at Esteban. 

“We need to get him to the OR; they’re waiting for us.” Nico said calmly and Esteban nodded. Nico lead the way, glad he didn’t have to answer Fernando’s last question. 

\- - -

Montezemolo burst into the room, throwing the door back on its hinges, his anger clear. Daniel was just behind him, looking like a scared puppy. Andrea turned to face the two of them as they spilled more light into the dingy room. Giving Montezemolo a small nod he turned his attention back to Mark. The Australian was lying on his back as far away from the wall as the chains on his wrist would allow him to go. Montezemolo moved in front of the microphone as Daniel closed the door. 

“Has he said anything?” Montezemolo shot at Andrea. Andrea shook his head, turning on the microphone. Mark saw the red light flash above the mirror along the wall to his left and knew someone was about to try and talk to him. “Has been three days.” Montezemolo said, glaring at his blasé stature. “You have still not said anything. Is there anything you would like to add today?” Mark had already decided that his silence was getting him nowhere. It was apparent that no one was telling Daniel very much about Fernando’s state and Andrea had been extremely reserved when he had asked. But he wasn’t willing to part with any information until they let him stay at Fernando’s bedside twenty-four seven. Mark continued to stare at the ceiling. 

“I was wondering if we could get these chains off actually, mate. They’re a bit restricting you see. And considering no fucker has come in here since I did I’m sure I won’t be able to find a way to get out.” Mark muttered darkly. Montezemolo, on the other side of the mirror, tapped his foot impatiently. 

“Is not possible.” Montezemolo declared. Andrea dropped his head slightly but it went unnoticed by his superior. “Why was it easier for us to get you back but not him?” He tried, again, for the third time today. Mark stared defiantly at the ceiling. Montezemolo sighed before gritting his teeth. “What would you say if I told you he was dead?” Mark took a deep breath, pushing his worst nightmare lower inside of him as to not give Montezemolo the reaction he wanted. 

“That would be a shame for you. I know you value him highly as an agent.” Mark said evenly. 

“But you feel…?” Montezemolo encouraged. Mark shrugged. 

“Indifferent.” He lied simply. Before Montezemolo got to confirm whether or not Fernando really was dead, Mark turned his head in the hidden people’s direction. “Where’s Horner? I thought he’d be begging to see me.” Mark commented, curiously. 

“Is busy training your replacement.” Montezemolo’s voice said plainly. 

“Replacement?” Mark asked. He had already assumed it and he already knew it was Daniel; Daniel had told him the first day he was thrown in here. Mark decided to give Montezemolo some false hope. 

“Yes. Agent Ricciardo. Or Agent Three.”

“Three? Who beat the Bull elite this year?” Mark mused, interested. 

“No one. There has been a change of… Regulations.” Montezemolo said. There was silence and Montezemolo decided Mark had no more comments to make. “Would you answer questions if Horner asks them?” He queried. Mark rolled his head back to the ceiling.

“No comment.” He said sharply, indicating he was saying no more today. Montezemolo turned off the microphone and turned to Andrea. 

“It an hour’s time when you take him food I want you to go inside and release his chains. Make him more willing to speak.” Montezemolo requested. Andrea folded his arms. 

“Is this not the White Elite’s job?” Andrea queried. 

“Am arranging with them as we speak. Have to wait. Want to see if Fernando can tell us anything.” Montezemolo said, moving out of the room. 

“Sir, I think I noticed something interesting today and yesterday that may help with Fernando.” Andrea said, causing Montezemolo to turn back to him. 

“Yes?”

“Look at Mark’s right hand, and his face.” Andrea pointed, moving closer to the mirror window. Montezemolo followed him. As did Daniel. The three of them squinted over at Mark. 

“What are we looking at?” Daniel asked. 

“Sebastian said he saw Mark push the glass into Fernando’s side, yes? A deep cut was left. But you look now and there is practically nothing. And his face was beaten a bit when he came in here. But now look. Only a couple of scratches and they’re barely visible.” Andrea explained. Montezemolo looked over at him. 

“The point?” He pressed. 

“Maybe P-Orsche has developed some kind of fast healing thing. Maybe this is why some of our treatments are not working on Fernando. Maybe ours do not work fast enough.”

“And what to you propose we do about that?” Montezemolo asked in an expectant tone. Andrea blushed. 

“Thought the information might help, Sir.” Andrea said quietly. Montezemolo crossed out of the room without another word. Andrea checked he had really gone before turning to Daniel. “Do you have any more information for him on Fernando?” Andrea’s tone changed to slightly frantic. Daniel dropped his head sadly. 

“No one is telling me anything. I just know he woke up. And that’s only because I heard him screaming…” Daniel said softly, fighting off a shiver at the memory of the sounds he had heard. Andrea squeezed his shoulder. 

“Just tell him he woke up briefly. Miss out the sounds. Just make sure he knows he is not dead.” Andrea ordered softly and Daniel nodded. He squeezed the young Australian’s shoulder tighter for a second, just like he did when Fernando felt shit about something, and left the room, watching Daniel take his seat for his shift. 

“AussieGrit is flying solo.” Daniel spoke to the microphone, giving Mark their coded message that he was alone. Mark sat up quickly, staring at the mirror with a pained look in his eyes. 

“Dan, he’s not dead, is he?” Mark couldn’t help the plea in his voice. Daniel smiled slightly. 

“No. He’s doing good. Woke up for a bit just before I came down.” Daniel beamed. Mark just stared at his reflection with a blank expression, not sure if Fernando being conscious was a good or bad thing.

\- - -

Fernando was staring at the ceiling, his body feeling completely numb. There was a huge white bandage on his left side that was secured to him by being wrapped around his waist that he had seen when Nico had come in with Esteban a moment ago to put on a fresh dressing. Fernando hadn’t moved. He barely winced. Because no one was talking to him. No one was telling him what was going on. And it was so infuriating he felt like he was stuck in his coma again. His surgery had apparently gone well but Fernando didn’t believe it. Successful surgery did not result in the dressings having to be changed every hour and him having to be hooked up to some kind of blood replenishment machine. 

The ceiling was boring to look at, but there really wasn’t much else.

At the sound of the commotion just outside the door, Fernando turned his head. Whose idea was frosted glass? How was he supposed to see what was going on if the glass only allowed for blurry outlines? He tried sitting himself up a little to get a better view but the pain that shot from the wound on his side up to his shoulder and down to his toes rendered him motionless. He groaned in annoyance as he fell back to staring up at the ceiling. The door then opened briefly and Fernando flicked his eyes down to take in Esteban walking towards him with a tray in his hand. He smiled softly as he dragged the bed table in front of Fernando and put it down. 

“How are you feeling at the moment?” Esteban asked sweetly as he used the bed remote to sit Fernando up. Fernando hated the fucking mechanical bed; it made him feel completely useless. He winced a little as he adjusted to the new position and his side wound emitted pain as a dull ache. 

“Sore.” Fernando commented, his voice still slightly horse, pressing his left hand gingerly to his side. There was small relief in supporting it. Esteban pushed the tray of food closer to him. 

“I brought you your lunch.” Esteban smiled. Fernando looked away from it and out of the window with the fucking frosted glass to try and find out whom was outside. 

“No thank you.” Fernando sighed, resting his head back on the pillow when he admitted he still couldn’t see anything. 

“You have to eat, Fernando.” Esteban tried, starting the usual game with Fernando and food. 

“No thank you.” Fernando repeated, still not turning back to Esteban. Esteban moved around to the side he was facing and straightened him back up. 

“You have to. It will make you better.” Esteban said, pushing the tray a little closer to Fernando. Fernando looked down at it in disgust. Two chicken and salad sandwiches with a handful of chips. Nothing hard. Everything soft. There was also the small cup of God knows what that they made him drink before each meal. Something else he had to do due to the failure of his surgery.

“Why did you tell me it went well?” Fernando asked calmly. Esteban turned away and moved to the machine to Fernando’s right. He had been strictly told not to answer any of Fernando’s questions but Fernando still tried every meal to get some information out of someone. 

“You need to at least take your medication.” Esteban said, not turning to look at Fernando. 

“Did not go well, did it? There is some complications.” Fernando pressed. Esteban didn’t say anything. “What is wrong? What are you trying to do?”

“You need to take your medication. If you’re not eating I need to report it.” Esteban said, making a note on the clipboard by the foot of Fernando’s bed before looking up at him. Fernando picked up the small cup of red liquid. 

“Where is Mark? How is he?” Fernando tried. Esteban just stood with his lips pressed together, staring expectantly at the cup in Fernando’s hand. Reluctantly, Fernando tipped the liquid into his mouth and placed the empty cup harshly back down on the tray. The sweet smile swept across Esteban’s face again. 

“Thank you. Enjoy your lunch.” And without another word, Esteban swept from the room. Fernando managed to catch a flash of a red shirt before the door was closed again. 

With a small groan of annoyance, Fernando dropped his head back on the pillow and pushed the tray of food away from him. He wasn’t hungry. He wanted answers. He wanted to understand. He sometimes laid here and wished that he were unconscious again. At least at that time they would say things in front of him without fear of him hearing. He understood what was going on at that time. This was just infuriating. 

“Are not going to eat that?” Someone said at the doorway. Fernando opened his eyes and looked over at the door so quickly the room swayed a little. But he couldn’t help it. Happiness flooded into his system and a smiled broke onto his face as Andrea walked into the room and took the seat to his left that was normally occupied by Nico or Esteban. “Looks good.”

“Have you tasted it?” Fernando smiled, feeling instantly ten times better. Andrea would help him. Andrea would answer his questions. Andrea shrugged as he pulled the tray back towards Fernando. 

“No, but this looks good.” He smiled. Fernando gave a breathy laugh before he relaxed back into the pillow, smiling over at Andrea. “Good to see you smiling.” Andrea commented, helping himself to a chip. Fernando shrugged. 

“Day just got better.” Fernando sighed. Andrea chewed slowly, contemplating his words. 

“So how are you?” He asked calmly. 

“Not good apparently. They will not tell me though.” Fernando said, trying to lean closer to Andrea. Andrea rested him back against the mattress with a gentle push to his shoulders. “They did surgery.”

“Really? Was that fun?” Andrea tried, instantly regretting his words. Fernando just smiled brighter at him. 

“Not sure. Was unconscious. Do not think it was successful.”

“What makes you say that?” Andrea asked with a frown as he sat down. Fernando pointed to the blood replenishment machine to his right. 

“Keeps bleeding. Think they took something out and now it does not stop.” Fernando sighed, reaching for a chip absent-mindedly. Andrea gave a hint of a smile as he started eating which Fernando missed, more focused on getting his questions answered. “Surely you must know what they are doing.”

“I know some things, yes.” Andrea nodded. Fernando swallowed and looked back over at him. There was a small pause. 

“So?” Fernando pressed. Andrea acted innocent.

“So what?”

“What do you know? What are they doing? What went wrong? Why are they lying to me and telling me it went well when it did not?” Fernando asked. 

“You know cannot answer any of those, Fernando.” Andrea sighed sadly. Fernando shook his head slightly. 

“Where is Mark? How is he? Is he Ok?” Fernando asked, his voice breaking slightly. Andrea’s eyes widen fearfully. 

“Are not supposed to ask that, Fernando.”

“Andrea, please, at least answer one.” Fernando begged. Andrea stared worriedly at Fernando for a moment before dropping his gaze and sighing sadly. 

“Cannot refer… Do not…” Andrea stopped and ran a hand through his hair. He gave Fernando a look before deciding to answer a different question. “They are trying to stop you from bleeding out. For some reason, when they removed… During surgery… Errh… It did not go completely well. Whatever it was apparently was stopping the blood… If they take you off the machine you’ll bleed out.” Andrea said, feeling bad he couldn’t answer any clearer. It was a case of answering one was answering then all and Nico had been so strict to the fact that if he came in he wasn’t to say anything that could upset Fernando. 

“What did they take?” Fernando asked in a small voice, remembering the cracking. Andrea looked at him for a moment before sighing and running a hand through his hair. 

“Glass. There was still… There was glass in you.” Andrea swallowed. Fernando froze for a moment, the memory, the gritting pain, the smashing glass… The kiss. He blinked until Andrea came back into complete focus. He could already feel the tears. 

“Mark?” Fernando asked in what little voice he had left. Andrea sighed. 

“Do not… Is Prisoner 2-4-8-2.” Andrea apologised. Fernando shook his head. 

“But he did not-!”

“-Fernando, Sebastian says he tried to kill you. Unfortunately for him the evidence found on you matched Sebastian’s story. Am sorry.” Fernando just shook his head at Andrea’s words. Andrea took his left wrist in a comforting manner but frowned down at it, turning it over. His fingers ran over the scar. “Have you always had this?” he asked. Fernando ripped his wrist from Andrea’s hold, bringing it close to his body. 

“Yes.” Fernando said bluntly. He then turned to Andrea, feeling like he had been harsh. After all, Andrea had just pretty much answered all of his questions. “Thank you.” Fernando added. Andrea got to his feet and squeezed Fernando’s shoulder supportively. 

“Eat this, yes?” Andrea asked. Fernando nodded and with one final squeeze on his shoulder Andrea left the room. Fernando pushed the food away from him abruptly and placed his hands over his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do right now was eat.

\- - -

“Mark?” Daniel said frantically. Mark stayed sitting with his feet on the desk, rocked back slightly in his chair. His hands were supporting the back of his head. In response to Daniel he only gave a nod; no code words were given. Daniel continued. “I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry?” Mark asked, turning to face his reflection. The statement confused him. 

“I tried to tell them there was another way but they wouldn’t listen.” Daniel said frantically, panic coating his words. Mark dropped his feet to the floor and lent forwards on the desk. 

“Another way for what?” Mark asked. Just as the final word had left his mouth the red light indicating the microphone on the other side of the mirror was live switched off. Mark fell back in his chair, eyes scanning the mirror for some sign of what was going on. There was silence for a long time and Mark found himself sitting forwards in an attempt to try and see something. He hated the silence. He could feel it crawling over his back. Making him envisage his worst nightmares. He shook his head, pressing his hands to the side of his head. He knew this was what they wanted. They wanted him to suffer. The abandonment and the lack of information was to mess with his head. They wanted him to beg them to tell him anything. And in exchange? He would have to give up information of his own. He shook his head slightly. He couldn’t keep doing this. It was too much. He wanted to see Fernando. He needed to see him and know he was Ok.

The door that he could never find slammed open spilling bright light into the room. It was the middle of the day. Who knew?  Mark mused, blinking at the dazzling light. The dank little cell-room they had put him in gave no indication of time or day, just the dull light that gave the room enough light for the spectators behind the mirror to see him. Mark looked up as the four uniformed agents marched into the room. There was no way to tell who they were, but before Mark knew what was happening something smacked him hard in the back of the head and he fell forwards, unconscious. 

\- -

Mark groaned as he blinked his eyes open, trying to realise where he was or what was going on. He saw the pool of water in front of him and frowned, not understanding what it could possibly entail. Maybe they were going to let him have a wash. He would appreciate that; it had been two weeks since he had been brought in and this was the first time he had been let out of that room. Or was he out? Mark suddenly wasn’t so sure. He tried to lift his head up to find out but someone harshly pushed it back down. Back to staring at the pool of water. 

“You are a F-1 agent, no?” Someone said from behind him. Mark tried to wriggle out of the hold he was in, panic setting into his bones, but the hands on him just tightened. He moaned quietly in frustration. “Huh. Really isn’t talking, is he.” The voice finished in an interested tone. 

“Agent Two, you were asked a question.” A familiar voice said. Mark tired to look up at Horner but, again, his head was shoved back down. Mark just gritted his teeth, refusing to gift any words.

“He does not answer.” Montezemolo stated. Mark was trying to subtly back away from the water bath in front of him but there was no room to budge. Whoever had hold of him had a tight grip. “Has not been answering for the last two weeks.”

“Go ahead.” The first voice said casually. Before Mark knew what was happening the hands pushed him forwards, submerging his head under the water. Panicking was probably the worst thing to do, but Mark had tried to reach his hands forwards to push back away from the pool and found his wrists were tied behind his back. He tried thrashing out his legs but there was no purchase, nothing around him. He had no way of re-emerging from the water. That point has his throat constrict and the urgency to breathe tripled. He didn’t scream out, nor did he try and gasp for breath. He knew that would only make the burn in his throat worse. 

From behind the mirrored window, Andrea stood with his arms folded, his back determinedly turned to the scene behind him. Daniel was looking between Andrea and Sebastian but neither of them seemed to be reacting. Both just seemed to be pretending it wasn’t happening. Daniel glared at Sebastian who had closed his eyes. 

“You’re just going to pretend it’s not happening? You’re just going to let them do that? What if he doesn’t know anything?” Daniel spat at the German. Sebastian didn’t move. 

“If he knew nothing he would have said by now. We would know.” Andrea said calmly, not turning from the wall. Daniel glared over at him.

“So you’re both happy to stand by and let this happen?” Daniel growled. 

“If it will help Fernando.” Andrea gave a short nod. Sebastian turned to Daniel, opening his eyes. 

“He tried to kill Fernando, Dan…” Sebastian said in an extremely quiet voice. Daniel just shook his head, resting his hands down at the desk and glaring at the scene in front of him. 

Mark was pulled back, thankfully, and gasped for air. Panting hard. He was dropped backwards into a chair and blinked rapidly, trying to take in everyone and everything around him. He was still in his little cell-room. Horner was standing attentively by the wall, looking like he was standing guard. Montezemolo was leaning on the mirror, glaring at Mark. The third voice belonged to Ecclestone. He was sitting behind the desk sipping delicately at a cup of tea. Looking briefly to his sides he noted Valtteri and Pastor were gripping him back to the chair. Valtteri’s expression was plain as stone, Pastor looked sadistically excited. 

“We’ll try again.” Ecclestone said, placing his cup down with a soft clink. Mark breathed deeply, glaring up at the small man as he rose to his feet and strolled in front of the desk. “Are you an F-1 agent?” Ecclestone asked calmly. Mark closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. He wasn’t going to answer but the flinch of movement on his shoulders made him open his mouth. 

“I’m not sure.” Mark grumbled darkly. He opened his eyes to see Ecclestone looking at him intently. 

“Well… That is a shame…” Ecclestone sighed. Montezemolo strode across the room and grabbed Mark’s collar, pulling it up slightly. 

“You want to talk? Talk! Tell us something of use! Tell us why we could get to you easily but not him!” Montezemolo spat in Mark’s face. Mark just grinned up at him, pressing his lips together. There was no way he was going to tell Montezemolo anything. It a flash of anger, Montezemolo punched Mark hard in the side of the face before being ushered backwards by Valtteri. Pastor’s grip on Mark tightened as the Australian straightened himself, pain throbbing across his face. He began to laugh enigmatically. 

“Luca, please. Calm down. We will get our answers.” Ecclestone chastened, touching Montezemolo’s arm lightly. Montezemolo sighed deeply. 

“You really need to keep an eye on your staff, Ecclestone. He might have just jeopardised the interrogation.” Mark smirked evilly. Horner looked over at Mark as if he were a man he didn’t recognise. Ecclestone moved in front of the Australian. 

“Nothing has been jeopardised. We carry on.” Ecclestone commanded. Mark shook his head. 

“I’m not feeling so inclined to talk anymore.” Mark beamed. Ecclestone turned his back, moving back to his tea as he sent a gesture into the air with his hand. Mark was suddenly launched forwards again a pushed deep into the water. He remained calm, still. He held his breath for as long as he could, closing his eyes and making himself remain calm. Their attempts of torture wouldn’t work if he didn’t react. Pastor’s anger could be felt as the pressure between his shoulders increased. Still, Mark stayed motionless. 

“Have they killed him?” Daniel asked, face pressed against the window. Sebastian rubbed his hands across his face from his seated position. 

“No. He’s ready for it now. He’s trying to play them at their own game.” Sebastian replied, still not looking up. Daniel watched as Pastor began to repeatedly lift and dunk Mark, the twitches in Mark’s arms becoming clearer until Pastor help him under again and Mark began to flail. Daniel sighed. 

“Can’t they just let him up?”

“Defeats the point of the torture, no?” Andrea commented. He still hadn’t turned from the wall. Sebastian suddenly got up and turned to him. 

“Why are we here? We didn’t do anything.” Sebastian shot, indicating to Daniel and himself. Andrea shrugged. 

“Was told to keep you in here until they were done.”

Mark gasped, finally a lungful of air, and coughed, spluttering as he was sat back down. He sucked in deep lungfuls of air and rested his head back. He didn’t want to do this anymore. He wanted them to leave him to his thoughts and lock him in this fucking room alone. He wanted to see Fernando. He wanted to go to sleep. He wanted relief from this interrogation. He opened his eyes, glaring over at Horner and hoping for some kind of sympathy. Horner didn’t look his way deliberately. Someone grabbed the side of his face and turned it harshly to look up. Pastor glared down into his eyes, happiness sparkling in his own. 

“Do you feel more inclined to talk now?” Pastor sneered. Mark flicked his eyes to Ecclestone across the room before he looked back up at Pastor and pressed his lips together, determined not to breath another word. 

\- - -

“You brought me grapes?” Fernando asked as Sebastian sat down beside him. The young German looked tired as he relaxed back in the chair that was set up to Fernando’s left. Fernando felt fidgety; he hadn’t left the bed for nearly three weeks. It was driving him insane and no one had told him anything more about Mark since Andrea had. Fernando was hoping that was the reason Sebastian had come to see him. 

“That’s what you get sick people.” Sebastian sighed, looking over at Fernando. It was weird; the last time he had properly seen the Spaniard he had been so sure he was dead. There was a small buzzing urge to hug him but Sebastian pushed it away. 

“Am not sick.” Fernando corrected, sitting up. And it was true… Sort of. They had managed to stop the wound on his side bleeding constantly and the horrid blood replenishment machine that made everything taste of nothing had finally been removed. But they still couldn’t do anything in the means of healing the blasted thing. It still remained on his side, covered by a square patch bandage to prevent infection. It still hurt when people put pressure on it. Luckily, since talking to Andrea, Nico was a lot happier to tell Fernando exactly what was going on. But Fernando thought that was more down to the fact he hadn’t asked about Mark since. There was also a bandage on his left wrist that had appeared a couple of days ago along with one on his ankle and a patch on the middle of his thigh. He had no idea what they were covering and Nico hadn’t been around long enough for him to ask. 

“Sure, that’s why you’re on sick leave.” Sebastian smirked sarcastically, helping himself to a grape. Fernando frowned at him. 

“Sick leave?” Fernando queried. Sebastian nodded. 

“Well, it’s a little confusing. You’ve been suspended but you also-”

“-Have been suspended?” Fernando said, shocked, as he sat up with wide eyes. Sebastian swallowed the grape a little forcibly. 

“Sort of.” Sebastian said with a little cough. Fernando continued to frown at him. “You’ve been suspended for two months, for disobeying orders, but you’re also on sick leave so you can recover. And you sick leave consisted of two months so they kind of cancel each other out.” 

“Did Andrea have something to do with this by any chance?” Fernando smiled, sitting back and relaxing as he popped a grape in his mouth. Sebastian shrugged. 

“I think so.” He said. Fernando chewed on his grape and swallowed before asking his next question. 

“How is Mark?” He asked quietly. Sebastian blushed slightly. 

“I’m not supposed to…”

“What am I going to do with the information?” Fernando pleaded slightly as he indicated to the IV in his hand and the fact he could barely move from the bed. Sebastian sat forwards and opened his mouth to speak. 

“He-” However, he was cut off by the door opening as Nico and Esteban came in to change Fernando’s dressings. Sebastian stood to leave. “I should go.”

“But… Have only just got here…” Fernando said, disappointedly.

“It’s not a problem, Sebastian. We’ll only be five minutes.” Nico said softly as Esteban started to unpeel the bandages on Fernando’s leg. Sebastian moved to shake his head. 

“Please, Seb.” Fernando asked, looking over at Sebastian as Nico moved to examine whatever Esteban was looking at. “Stay?” The German looked between Nico and Esteban working and the pleading look in Fernando’s eyes. He was more relieved to see Fernando conscious but that horrid vision of what he had seen in the P-Orsche vault kept pulling at him. So maybe he had to stay for himself, just so he knew that hadn’t happened and, in fact, Fernando was absolutely fine. And if Fernando asked any more questions about Mark then Sebastian would share that information because it was kind of his fault that Mark was being held prisoner. So Sebastian nodded and relief crashed over the Spaniard’s face as he relaxed back a little in the bed. Nico gave a small smile and gestured Sebastian back to the chair he had been sitting in. Sebastian retook his seat and took a handful of the grapes he had brought with him. 

“I suppose someone has to help you eat these.” Sebastian smirked, popping one in his mouth. Fernando just smiled over at him, looking sleepy. The German frowned a little as he chewed. “Are you tired.”

“‘Mm fine.” Fernando muttered, forcing his eyes back open.

“It’s just a side effect of the treatment, you were all the same.” Nico explained as he scrutinised Fernando’s ankle. “The bandages aid the recovery and prevent the drowsiness. Remove the bandages and you bring on the drowsiness. Just give him five minutes to rest, though knowing him he will try and fight it, then he’ll be fine.” Nico smiled, moving to look at the section of Fernando’s thigh they had uncovered. Sebastian nodded, looking over at Fernando. Fernando was trying his best to keep his eyes open but it was becoming increasingly more difficult. 

“Seb?” Fernando requested as his eyes rolled shut. Sebastian just sent him a soft smile. 

“Yeah, Fernando? I’m right here.” Sebastian said lightly. Fernando rolled his head in his direction, forcing his eyes back open. “It’s Ok, Fernando, you can go to sleep for a moment. I was the same. I won’t go anywhere. Promise.” The small word sent ripping pain through Fernando at the memories it resurfaced. Everything Mark had accused him of, everything he had lied about to the Elite. They had both put their careers in jeopardy for each other but Fernando wondered to what real extent he had giving himself. He felt like Mark was right; he felt like he had given up everything he wanted with the Australian for the Elite. Even though he had promised everything to Mark. The drowsiness was gone as he felt tears prickling his eye instead. How could he have done that to Mark? How could he have given him all of those empty words when he knew he loved him? Fernando needed to see him. Even if it was the last thing he did he needed to see Mark. 

And Sebastian was going to help him. 

“Looks good. All of them.” Nico smiled, placing Fernando’s now un-bandaged left wrist back down on the bed. Fernando frowned down at it and then up to Nico. 

“What did you do?” Fernando asked with an air of interest. He brought his left wrist close to his face to examine it. And then the floor dropped away. And he was falling. And nothing was ever going to secure him to the ground again. There was a cheery voice explaining something, most probably Nico, but Fernando could hear him. He was just a muffled tone. Fernando’s face was blank. Emotionless. But inside he was falling apart. And he could feel that emotion breaking onto his face. Someone re-covered his leg and the warmth of the covers seemed to be rejected from his body. Because he didn’t want it. He never wanted to feel warm again. Just look what they had done to him. He shook his head slightly, eyes brimming with tears as he traced a finger over the smooth skin of his left wrist. The skin that should have a bump. An imperfection. The wrist that should hold his scar. The scar he had never wanted them to remove because of what it meant to him. Mark and his scar. 

Mark and his scar that was now gone. 

Because the skin under his fingers was soft, smooth, unbroken. It was gone. They had removed it. And if that wasn’t a smack in the face that Mark and he would never be able to exist here then Fernando didn’t know what was. 

“Fernando?” Sebastian asked, frowning at the sudden destruction of the man in front of him. He was staring intently at his wrist, stroking fingers along an invisible line. The desolation on Fernando’s face made no attempt to shift as the Spaniard flicked his eyes to Nico.

“Why?” Fernando asked in a voice that could barely be heard. It was clear he was on the verge of tears. Nico frowned. 

“I… Errh… It’s… New… New regulations.” Nico stammered, not entirely sure why Fernando was getting so emotional about his wrist. There had been a small scar there but Ecclestone had been clear that everything had to go. Fernando closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. 

“New…” His voice failed and he covered his face with his hands. This was stupid. He needed to calm down or people were going to start asking questions. Like: why was he getting so upset about a little scar that was on his wrist that he did everything in his power to hide from everyone? Fernando couldn’t explain that without getting either Mark or himself or possibly both of them terminated. He took a deep breath. 

“General Ecclestone changed the regulations for the agents this year. He… He said that each driver must have no imperfections, no wounds, no visible damage… I don’t know I-” Nico stared. Sebastian lent forwards and looked desperately over at Fernando. 

“It’s because of Ma- Errh… Pris…” Sebastian couldn’t use those numbers. It was too impersonal. He swallowed before trying again. “Because of Agent Two… He… The P-Orsche have done something that makes him heal really fast. We brought you both in about three days after the mission and he barely had a scratch on him. Even with the medical treatments we have we wouldn’t have been able to get him looking that good in three days. And everything would have had to have been covered up. He was just… Ecclestone was inspired so he ordered for the new regulations. Apparently it makes us look tougher… We all had to do it.” Sebastian tried soothingly. Fernando couldn’t get over the fact it was because of Mark that he had lost his scar. Wasn’t that just a cruel twist of fate? There was only one thing clear in Fernando’s mind now and that was the fact he had to see Mark. He had been feigning a lack of extensive movement for a few days now so his room wouldn’t be too strongly guarded. And he had a change of clothes waiting for him, hidden in his bathroom so he didn’t have to traipse through the centre in his medical gown. He had just needed someone to take him to Mark. And Sebastian had become his chosen candidate. 

So Fernando just nodded, pretended he had just been in a little shock about the sudden discovery and left Esteban and Nico to finish off. Nice fresh bandages for an escape. On his ‘toilet breaks’ he had been pacing and jogging around the small room to make sure exertion would not make his side worse. For the past few days it had been fine and so Fernando had decided this was the time to find Mark. Nico changed the dressing on his side and Sebastian had had to look away. He only caught a small view of the ripped flesh and heard Fernando gasp in pain before he had got up and turned his back. He had seen it before but when he had it had been on a much worse state. They had tried to use stiches to bring the skin back together but that had only created a blood clot just under the surface of the wound. They had waited, trying things to deter the clot but nothing worked. In the end, they had had to rip the wound back open as it had started to heal, much to Fernando’s discomfort. There had been a lot of blood all at once, literally pouring from the side of his skin as if someone had turned a tap on. The clot had created a bulge of skin that was filled with both blood and a small infection that they had had to squeeze empty, creating a mustard-red thick substance to drench his side. Fernando had passed out three times before they decided keeping him under sedation would be what was best for him. Once the dressing was back in place, Nico and Esteban cleaned up before leaving Sebastian and Fernando alone in the room. Fernando had sat himself up and was watching Sebastian, which made the German feel extremely subconscious. 

“What?” Sebastian asked. Fernando just shook his head and changed his attention to the bathroom door. He felt fidgety. He wanted to go now. Sebastian seemed to pick up on it. “Are you OK?”

No. “Fine.” Fernando said bluntly. Sebastian sighed. 

“I’m really sorry no one told you about the new regulations, but it’s fine. Everyone had to do it. Even I had to. I don’t know… Maybe it looks more professional-”

“-Do you know where Mark is?” Fernando interrupted, turning back to Sebastian. Sebastian blinked at him. 

“Errh…” Sebastian dropped his eyes to the floor and scratched the back of his next awkwardly. 

“Is a yes or no.” Fernando pushed. Sebastian kept his eyes to the floor, trying to push the memory of Mark’s interrogation out of his head. It had only been the third time he had gone down there when that happened and he hadn’t gone since. He couldn’t bring himself to. 

“Yes… Yes I do…” Sebastian muttered. Fernando nodded once, pulled the IV from his hand and threw the covers off him heading towards the bathroom. Sebastian was a little shocked Fernando had moved so quickly, considering he had been moaning to Esteban about not being able to go anywhere when he had come in to visit. 

“Wait there.” Fernando requested as he shut the bathroom door. Sebastian just sat, frowning over at the door. It wasn’t very long before Fernando had re-emerged. He was now dressed in grey joggers, his Red Elite red shirt and some dirty faded white trainers. Sebastian frowned deeper at him as Fernando crossed the room and pulled the dark blue sweatband from his wrist. Sliding it over his left, the Spaniard folded his arms, waiting. It didn’t take long for Sebastian to talk.

“What-?”

“-Want you to take me to Mark. You say you know where he is? Want you to show me.” Fernando stated firmly before moving over to the door and surveying the pathway to the exit. Sebastian swallowed nervously, joining him and sensing that an argument would do nothing to make Fernando change his mind. 

“How long have you been planning this?” Sebastian asked, taking in Fernando attire. Fernando gave a small smirk as he looked over at Sebastian. 

“About two weeks.” Fernando confirmed. Sebastian sighed. Of course Fernando had been planning this for about two weeks. 

Since he’d been conscious. 

\- - -

“So how’s the Bull Elite treating you, Daniel?” Mark asked casually, rocking back on his chair. He was bored, like he usually was, but Daniel was on shift to watch him which gave him someone to talk to. 

“Not too bad. I’m just going through training at the moment. Obviously I’ve been training with the Toro Elite but this is a lot more intensive. It’s good. Can’t wait to get out on the field.”

“There have been no missions?” Mark asked, interested. 

“No. No, there is some work going on with the machine we took at the moment… I went out on the rescue mission. That was fun… Though it was really easy when you were just sitting there waiting for us and then lead us to Fernando…” There was an awkward pause and Mark could tell Daniel was chewing over his words, trying to decide whether or not to ask Mark the question they all seemed to want to know the answer to.

“Don’t ask.”

“You can’t just tell me? I promise I won’t tell.” Daniel said sweetly. Mark rolled his eyes. Why did everyone have to promise around here?

“No. If I tell you they will think they can use you to get information out of me.” And too many people have been used already.

“I won’t tell them.” Daniel pleaded. 

“You won’t have to. I’m sure they’re aware we talk like this. They keep letting it happen in the hope I might accidently let something slip.” Mark turned his attention up to the red light. “I won’t.” 

“Aren’t you bored?” Daniel asked softly. Mark wondered if these were constructed questions. 

“Extremely.”

“You know if you just tell them they will let you out. They will let you see him.”

“They won’t.” Mark said darkly. Not when they know what he did and what he saw and everything else he was hiding from them. He shook his head slightly. Brief conversations with Daniel and snippets of news about Fernando would have to do. He couldn’t tell them. He gave a sigh before dropping all four legs on the chair back on the floor and resting his chin on his hand, looking over at his reflection. “So how does Jev feel about you changing Elites?” Mark asked softly. On the other side of the glass Daniel just shrugged. 

“He was really happy for me. He- I mean, we’re really close friends so he was happy for me…” Mark gave a small, knowing smirk he was sure Daniel couldn’t see. “He’s kind of like a mentor to the new kid. Danill, I think? Yeah… I don’t know… They seem to get along well… I don’t get to see him much anymore…” There was a hint of sadness to Daniel’s tone. 

“He misses you.” Mark said in an assuring tone. “You’re probably shaking your head at me and thinking how could I know that trapped in here, but I do. This Danill kid will never replace you mate. Just try and pop in and say hello every now and then.” Mark smiled. It had sort have been the same for Fernando and him, but Fernando always found the time to sneak into his sleeping quarters and surprise him, even when he was at the Red Elite. It was endearing and Mark felt magnetised to him every time he walked in to flop down on his bed after a long day and couldn’t because Fernando was sitting there reading a book. His energy would triple even if he had had a shit day and the amount of times he had fallen asleep with Fernando gently brushing through his hair was uncountable. 

“Shit... Mark, we’ve got open fire.” Daniel said into the microphone as a commotion was heard heading down the stairs. Mark just nodded, pushing a solitary look on his face and crossing over to lie down on his bed. Daniel pulled some paperwork towards him and pretended that he had been working for the entire time of his watch on Mark. He knew he still had three hours of his shift left to do but the disorder was unsettling. Muffled voices could be heard drawing closer to the door and Daniel had a fleeting worry of whether Mark was right and the Elites could hear all the conversations they had been having. 

“This is stupid. You need to come back.” A muffled familiar voice called. Daniel turned his head towards the door. 

“If you think this was stupid you should not have brought me.” A second, closer voice called back. Daniel frowned. 

“I didn’t know what you were planning! This isn’t going to work.”

“Have to try.”

“What if Andrea’s in there?”

“You told me it was Daniel’s shift.” The second voice called as the door flew open. Daniel blinked, barely believing his eyes and Fernando walked in, looking around the little room. Sebastian followed him in as Fernando’s eyes found Mark. The Spaniard rested his hands on the desk and dropped his head. It was just as he feared. Fernando shook his head slightly. 

“Fernando?” Daniel asked, shocked. Fernando looked over at him, spying the microphone. He held out his hand. 

“This, please.” Fernando requested, pointing to the microphone. Daniel opened his mouth, shocked, before looking over to Sebastian. Sebastian shook his head. 

“Fernando, this isn’t going to work. What are you expecting to achieve?”

“Need him to know am fine.” Fernando spat over his shoulder before returning his gaze to Daniel. “Please, Daniel.”

“Don’t, Daniel.” Sebastian shot back. Fernando turned on him. 

“Why did you bring me here?” Fernando glared over at Sebastian but Sebastian just folded his arms. 

“You asked me to.” Sebastian said defiantly. “If you talk to him I will go and find someone and tell them you are here.” Sebastian threatened. Fernando turned away from him and took the microphone from Daniel. 

“Go tell someone then.” Fernando seethed as he crossed back to the centre of the room and looked over at Mark. He took three long deep breaths before his finger reached for the red button that would make the microphone live. Sebastian huffed and headed for the door, but he was stopped in his tracks. It was Fernando’s soft, delicate tone and Mark’s reaction. “Mark?” Fernando asked gently. 

Mark sat bolt upright at the new voice. Because there was no possible way. His eyes were wide as he stared at his reflection, wishing, just this once, for it to become the window it really was and let him see the owner of the voice. As much as it pained Mark he couldn’t answer Fernando. What if he wasn’t alone? What if it was some kind of trick? Mark just stared at his reflection and waited. Waited for any kind of sign. 

“You have to let him know you’re alone.” Daniel commented as Sebastian hovered awkwardly by the door, closing it. Fernando frowned over at the younger Australian before nodding, understanding. Mark was obviously withholding information. That was the only real reason for holding him in here. If it was because he had tried to kill Fernando then Mark could have easily claimed that he had been possessed or something by P-Orsche. That would be an acceptable excuse and Mark would know that. Fernando moved closer to the window. 

“Am alone, Mark. Is just Sebastian, Daniel and me.” Fernando said in a soft tone. Mark swung his legs off the side of the bed, still looking in Fernando’s direction. Fernando sent another look to Daniel but Daniel just shrugged. Slowly, Mark got to his feet and walked across the room. It was startling; how well Mark looked. P-Orsche had done something to him. Fernando had seen captivity prisoners before and after three weeks they were supposed to look dishevelled, ruined. Mark looked strong and healthy. No scratches on him. Fernando had to admit that it did look empowering to see him wound-free but his wrist tingled slightly under Sebastian’s sweatband and Fernando forced the thought from his head. 

“Hello.” Mark said, standing about eight feet from the mirror. Fernando could see the details of his face so clearly. It was heart breaking to know Mark couldn’t see him on the other side of the glass. Fernando stood as close to the window as he could.

“Hi.” Fernando said evenly. Mark moved closer. 

“I wish I could see you.” Mark sighed, pushing a hand in his pocket before letting it swing by his side again. 

“Can see you.” Fernando smiled. Mark just nodded, looking at the floor. “You look good. Well.” Fernando amended, heat crawling up his neck as he remembered the other two people in the room. 

“How are you?” Mark asked, suddenly looking up with worry in his eyes. Fernando shrugged with a small smile at Mark’s concern. Mark still cared about him. Mark would always care. 

“Am Ok.” Fernando looked over at Daniel who seemed to be feverishly burying himself in the paperwork surrounding him. Sebastian was watching Fernando closely, unsure of his motives. Mark moved so he was standing right against the mirror. A hint of warmth passing through made him wish that it were Fernando. Fernando relished in looking up at him slightly from his side of the glass. 

“Really Ok or Fernando Ok?” Mark asked, gently pressing his hands into the mirror. Fernando felt the new warmth gently seep through above his abdomen and smiled softly. 

“Really Ok.” 

“Good.”

“How are you?”

“Bored.” Mark sighed, resting his forehead on the glass. Fernando wished he had dipped it like he did when they were together; it was too high for him to emulate the motion. “Can you just talk to me?” Mark requested. Fernando blinked.

“What about?”

“Anything… I just… I need to hear your voice.” Mark sighed. Fernando turned to the other two in the room, shutting off the microphone. 

“Can you give me a moment?” Fernando requested. Daniel nodded, getting to his feet and crossing the room. Sebastian didn’t move. 

“Why? What are you going to do?” Sebastian queried. 

“Talk.” Fernando said bluntly, turning back to Mark. Sebastian was still reluctant to move but Daniel dragged him out of the room, promising they could stand guard just outside if it made him feel better. 

“Fernando?” Mark asked after a while of silence. 

“Right here.” Fernando’s voice sung back. Mark slid to the floor, hugging his knees close. 

“I’m so sorry, Fernando.” Mark breathed, tears rolling down his cheek. Fernando could barely see him from his new position. It hurt. He wanted to comfort Mark so badly. A temptation to smash the window and crawl through to him was almost unbearable but he knew that would cause an alarm and draw unwanted people’s attention. 

“Mark, is nothing to be sorry about.” Fernando tried. It didn’t work. 

“There is… I shouldn’t… If I’d have just come. You wouldn’t have nearly… And I…”

“Mark, please calm down.”

“Fernando, I tried to kill you. I tried to fucking kill you! How can you be so calm about that?”

“Because you did not. Am still here.” Fernando cooed softly. Mark pushed himself to his feet. 

“You’re missing the point.” Mark strode over to his bed and sunk down, perching on the edge. 

“Please come back.” Fernando said softly. Unknown to Mark, silent tears were tracking pathways across Fernando’s raw skin. Fernando couldn’t bear to see him like this. Mark looked up at him. 

“How do you know I won’t do it again?” Mark breathed.

“Will not. Could not. You knew what you were doing. You knew that if you did what you did you could still save me. You knew that. Mark, cannot kill you and you cannot kill me. Is because we lo-”

“-Don’t say that!” Mark blurted out, jumping off the bed. He crossed quickly to the mirror where he hoped Fernando was still standing. “Not here. Not now. It’s not safe.”

“But we are safe now. We are here and together and alive. Both of us. Will be fine.” Fernando smiled. Mark pressed his hand into the mirror and Fernando placed his over his, smiling gently as more tears rolled down his face. Mark suddenly punched beside them with his free hand and made Fernando jump. 

“This isn’t fair. Fuck, I want to see you. I can’t… Fucking hell.” Mark hit the mirror again and Fernando couldn’t help giggling at him. His giggles were cut short by the echo of voices to his left. 

“Someone is coming.” Fernando commented, looking back at Mark. Mark pushed himself closer to the glass.

“Don’t go.”

“Hold on.” Fernando said. After a few moments of silence, Mark looked up at the red light and saw it was off. The microphone wasn’t live. He threw his face back at the mirror and tried desperately to see through. 

“Fernando?” Mark tired, panic rising quickly in his body. There was no reply. “Fernando.” Mark said, shielding his eyes and pressing his face up against the mirror. If only he could just see… He hit the mirror again, feeling the lump grow in his throat and tears sting his eyes. “Fernando! Fuck!” The sobs crept up on his and before he knew it he was falling apart. He wanted so badly to see him but now he had gone. And maybe that was worse than when he thought Fernando was laying unconscious floors above him. Maybe it was worse now he knew Fernando was awake and well, with the possibility of the Elite turning him against Mark. That was the scariest thought. That was the thing that had his body racking with sobs as he pleaded for someone to let Fernando at least talk again. He had his forearms pressed against the mirror in desperation. He just needed to hear his voice. There was nothing he wouldn’t give to hear it again. There was nothing he would give to see him. 

Sebastian stood in the doorway as Daniel tried to follow Fernando but found the pathway blocked, in shock. This wasn’t the side of someone breaking down you were supposed to see. But pressed against the mirror, trying to shield himself, Mark had exposed the true emotion and desperation on his face to the observation room. This was what the Elite was after: a way to break the defiance. And Sebastian couldn’t believe it. The absolute genuine sorrow in Mark’s pleas confused Sebastian more. Why would Mark attempt to kill Fernando if he felt this bad about loosing him? Sebastian shook his head to himself as Daniel moved across to the microphone to explain what was going on. It was too late. Shoved abruptly by the shoulder, Lauda followed by Montezemolo, Kaltenborn, Horner and Andrea entered the room. Andrea sent a fleeting, confused look between Sebastian and Daniel as Montezemolo, Lauda and Horner looked for Mark. Kaltenborn stood at the back of the room, observing. 

“Where is he?” Montezemolo shot, glaring around the apparently empty room. 

“Has he escaped? Could that have been his reason?” Lauda sent to Montezemolo. Montezemolo gripped the desk tighter.

“He won’t have escaped; we’d have known before now.” Horner tried to pass in a calm tone, but his eyes had fixed on Sebastian. Sebastian swallowed nervously. 

“If incompetent medical staff could take care of my agent-” Montezemolo started, but he was interrupted. 

“-Hey!” Kaltenborn spat from the back of the room. Montezemolo turned to her. “My agents are perfectly capable of their job, thank you very much. If your field agents,” She looked to Horner briefly before looking back to Montezemolo. “Didn’t have a mission to break out of my facilities then we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“So, Agent One, what exactly was the plan here?” Montezemolo turned on Sebastian, backing him into the wall. “Plan to spring him free when we were not looking? Hide him in a cupboard? Did you not think someone would notice Agent Fourteen was not in his bed?” 

“It… It was… Fernando wanted… I…” Sebastian stammered, looking to Daniel for help. 

“This still doesn’t explain where 2-4-8-2 is!” Lauda growled. He was ignored.

“Do not even try to blame my agent.” Montezemolo threatened. 

“Please, Sir… Fernan- I mean, Agent Fourteen wanted to come and see Ma- Errh… He wanted to come down here.” Daniel said softly. Montezemolo turned on him but before he got close enough his attention changed to Andrea. 

“You knew this?” Montezemolo accused. Andrea folded his arms. 

“No. He has been asking questions but you say this information is restricted. Have not said anything.” Andrea lied casually. Montezemolo went to speak again when it happened. 

“Please… Please, I’ll tell you what you want… I don’t… I don’t care… Just let him talk… I’ll tell you what you want…” Soft sobs suddenly echoed through the speaker system and everyone turned to the window-mirror. Mark still couldn’t be seen, having slid down the wall again, but they could hear him. And what he said. 

“What does-?” Andrea started to Sebastian and Daniel.

“-Shh.” Lauda said, with a finger to his lips. Montezemolo reached for the microphone but Lauda grabbed his wrist. “Don’t. We will wait. See what he wants. The interrogation a few days was a failure; he didn’t tell us anything. Just wait to see why he is suddenly so willing.” Lauda said quietly, pulling out a seat and sitting down. 

“But, I think-” Daniel started. 

“-Shh.” Lauda tried a little more insistently and the room fell silent. 

Mark was loosing the wisp of Fernando’s voice he had managed to hold onto from their conversation. Maybe it was a trick. Maybe this was some grand elaborate plan to break Mark’s defiance and they had got an impersonator in. Mark didn’t care. Mark didn’t care because it sounded like his Fernando and so he could believe it was until proven differently. But the red light remained off and Mark wondered if they had dragged Fernando away and left him back under Daniel’s shift. 

“Daniel, please… Where did-?” Mark’s question was cut short as the door opened. A momentary bright light blinded him as a singular figure entered the room. Mark blinked several times, unwrapping one arm from around his knees to cover the sun so he could see who had come inside. His eyes slowly adjusted to the person in front of him and Mark got to his feet, in complete awe. Slow steps from both of them brought them face to face, Fernando having to look up every so slightly. Mark racked over him with his eyes, taking in his face, his arms, his hands, his clothes. Everything. A finger reached out and drew a line from the corner of Fernando’s eye to the corner of his lips. 

His Fernando. 

Without a second thought, Mark wrapped his arms around Fernando tightly and captured him in an embrace. Making sure his hide Fernando from the mirror with his back he brought their lips together, softly but then passionately as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Mark ran his hands down Fernando’s sides in a desperate plea to bring him closer, but the gasp in his mouth made him pull back. He took a step away from Fernando and noted how his hand had defensively flown to the left side of his body. The side Mark had punctured with the glass. Mark crossed over to the door, pulling on the lever from the outside to make it shut before returning to Fernando; he wanted no distractions or interruptions. Dropping to his knees, he moved Fernando’s hand out of the way and lifted his shirt to reveal the white, square bandage with the slight stain of red. Mark dropped the edge of his shirt and got to his feet, backing away. He turned his back to Fernando and Fernando felt a wave of sadness crash over him.

“Mark?” Fernando tried tentatively, moving towards Mark’s turned back. Mark shook his head. 

“Don’t you see what I did? Can’t you see what I…” Mark turned back to face Fernando. “How can you trust me?”

“Because is you, Mark.” Fernando said, moving over to him again. Mark sank down on the edge of his bed and Fernando joined him. A small smile graced Mark’s lips and Fernando felt his heart flutter. 

“You’re either really clever or really fucking stupid.” Mark joked. Fernando smiled back. 

“Does not matter either way. Am here now.” 

“Why are you here?” Mark asked, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around Fernando. He was, of course, still under observation and he couldn’t be entirely sure who was observing him. 

“You say you want to see me.” Fernando sighed happily as Mark pulled his left wrist onto his lap and began to draw swirling patterns across his skin. 

“So you thought you’d break protocol and let yourself in.” Mark smiled, nuzzling into Fernando’s hair as the Spaniard rested his head on his shoulder. 

“Broke protocol even coming down.” Fernando shrugged. “What is so bad breaking a few more rules.” Mark worked his fingers gently under the blue wristband before realising it was there. He looked down at it. 

“What’s this?” Mark smiled, amused. Fernando’s eyes widened in panic as he tried to pull his wrist away. Mark gripped onto it, smile slipping slightly off his face. 

“Just… Just a thing…” Fernando explained weakly. Mark looked from him to the band. 

“It’s Bull colours.” Mark commented. 

“Is not mine, did not have my in hospital room. Is Seb’s.”

“Why did you need it?” Mark asked, moving to take it off, Fernando tried to pull from his grip. 

“Just… Did.” Fernando breathed. Mark held his wrist still and pulled the blue material off it. Fernando tried to keep his palm facing down but Mark rolled it over. The frown fell off his face as he dragged his fingers over the smooth skin. No scar. Hot raged burned under his skin and he gripped Fernando’s wrist tighter. He pushed the pad of his thumb into the place where the mark on Fernando’s skin should have been until he heard Fernando gasp in pain as the pressure Mark was inflicting on him reached too much. “Am sorry.” He breathed but Mark had already thrown his wrist back at him. He walked across the room, glaring at his reflection before turning back to Fernando. 

“You can’t see what they’re doing? They don’t care, Fernando! This is why I didn’t want you to run. This is why I wanted you to stay. Just look what they’ve done to you! You’re manufactured! They’ve scrubbed away every detail that made you different from the rest of them!”

“Mark, please!” Fernando begged, moving towards the Australian. Mark battered his arms away, glaring deeply at him. “Did not ask-”

“-And that’s my point, no? They don’t care about anyone but themselves! Who gives a shit if a few little disposables get lost along the way? Who gives a shit, right? I care, Fernando. We care. This is what I was trying to prevent happening!”

“Am still me, Mark. Am still here.”

“I can’t see you.” Mark spat, shoving Fernando’s hands off his shoulder. Fernando stood in the middle of the room, holding back tears as he looked over at Mark. “You’re… They’re trying to change you, Fernando.”

“Not let them.”

“You let them do this… You let them remove…” Mark couldn’t finish. It was too much. That small scar on the inside of Fernando’s wrist was always there way of showing everyone what they really were without actually saying. And the Elite had scrubbed that away like dirt on a windshield. If they stayed here what stopped the Elite doing that to their relationship? No. He couldn’t stay. They couldn’t stay. Mark’s eyes had been opened to too much potential. 

“Did not let them. If they had asked would have said no.” Fernando said, moving back over to Mark. “Please. I need you.” Fernando whispered, pressing himself into Mark’s back. He wrapped his arms around the Australian’s body when he wasn’t thrown off, his voice only just audible to Mark mere inches away. “I love you.” 

“You can’t here.” Mark said, pulling Fernando closer to him. “They get their way. You can’t do this anymore. We can’t… I don’t-”

“-No, Mark.” Fernando said, clinging tighter to the Australian. Mark rubbed the back of his hands soothingly with a finger. 

“Fernando…” Mark muttered softly, turning to face the Spaniard. Fernando looked up at him as Mark cupped his face, rubbing gently on his cheek. His second hand slipped around his left wrist and clutched it again, tightly. Staring into Fernando’s eyes, he increased the pressure around his left wrist, squeezing. Conflicting emotions crossed Fernando’s face until there was nothing but pain there. Mark pressed their foreheads together, still holding Fernando’s wrist tightly. Showing a sigh of explicit trust, Fernando didn’t try and pull from Mark’s grasp, didn’t question what Mark was doing. He just let it happen, his nails digging into the Australian’s forearm until tears voluntarily shot down his face. “You’re either really clever or completely fucking crazy mate.” Mark repeated, staring deep into Fernando’s eyes. Fernando held his gaze.

“Trust you.” He choked out, trying not to reveal the pain shooting up his arm. 

“I could break your arm if I wanted to. Put you out of action for a few more weeks.”

“Would not… Could not…”

“You don’t know that… Fuck knows what they did to me in that place…” Mark said as he could feel the small cuts forming in the top of his arm from Fernando’s nails. “I’m not hurting you?”

“Yes.” Fernando said breathily. Mark increased the pressure. 

“Then tell me to stop.” Mark said in an indistinguishable tone that Fernando didn’t recognise. But Fernando found no words formed in his mouth. He couldn’t request Mark stop for some reason. For some reason he just stared back at hazel eyes calmly. His body was screaming to pull from Mark’s grip or scream or make some sign of the pain he was in but he politely refused. Mark began to frown at him. “Tell me to stop.” Mark repeated, a little louder, leaning back slightly from Fernando. Fernando opened his mouth but, again, no words came out. Anger began to rise in Mark and he felt his hand around Fernando’s wrist tighten. “You don’t trust that I can, do you?” Mark growled. He stepped forwards into Fernando and watched as the Spaniard dropped to his knees in front of him, arm held up in an awkward angle. Finally, he dropped his head and gasped in pain, relenting to the logic of his body. 

“Do… Trust….” Fernando breathed through gritted teeth. 

“Tell me to stop then! Tell me to fucking stop!” Mark yelled, pushing down into Fernando and bending his back slightly. His shirt rose slightly and revealed the white bandage on his side that was slowly turning red. 

“Mark…” Fernando gasped. When he didn’t continued Mark slammed his arm down, still keeping hold of his wrist, and pushed Fernando down onto his back. 

“I could bend you any which way I wanted. I could make you do anything right now. I could beat you back into a bloody pulp and leave. Is that what you want? Is that what you want me to do?” Mark snarled in Fernando’s ear. He was sobbing quietly now and he shook his head rapidly. 

“No, Mark… Please…”

“Tell me to let you go! Tell me you want me to stop!” Mark yelled, hosting Fernando onto his feet and shoving him back into the desk. Fernando crouched over, winded, as Mark grabbed his collar and dragged him back up, smacking his head on the desk on the way. Slightly dazed, Fernando crumpled to the floor by Mark’s feet. Mark pulled him slightly off the floor by his collar, a horrible glare covering his face. “Is this what you want? You want me to be the monster you remember?” Mark spat. Fernando shook his head trying desperately to reach for Mark and pull him close, comfort him. “Then tell me to STOP!” Mark screamed, raising his fist. Fernando cowered into his arms but there was really no need. He was suddenly being dragged backwards harshly and then soft, comforting hands had hold of his, guiding him out into the bright sunshine. Fernando tried to get back to Mark, attempting to pull from the soft hands that had a hold on him, but he looked over in time to see the masked agent press the taser to Mark’s neck and make him flap like a fish before he stilled, rolling onto his stomach and curling into the foetal position. 

“Is Ok, Fernando.” Andrea said softly as he walked him back through the surveillance room and out towards the hospital as the Spaniard still desperately tried to return to the cell. “He’s fine, Fernando. Everything is Ok.”

\- - -

Mark sat on his bed, rubbing his neck. He thought the taser had been a step too far but he was attempting to beat the shit out of a highly accommodated, recovering agent. Maybe he should have expected it. It was still pissing him off that Fernando hadn’t told him to stop. That was all Mark had wanted, just one word so he could prove to Fernando that he wasn’t the guy who had pretty much beaten him to death and pushed him down a stairwell. He was still Mark. Still the same Mark who loved Fernando unconditionally and would go to extreme measures to protect him. Mark needed to know Fernando knew that and if anything, he had just made the situation worse. Mark looked up as the red light blinked on and rolled his eyes. 

“Heard some Spanish kid made you hand over information.” Rocky’s voice sneered over the intercom. Mark just shrugged, sinking further down the wall that he was resting his back on. “Or… Nearly did.” Mark could hear the smirk in Rocky’s voice and turned his back slightly to the mirror. “Want to hear something interesting?” Rocky pried. Mark sighed deeply. 

“Don’t I always.” He muttered. There was a short pause and Mark briefly wondered if Rocky was finally going to leave him alone. 

“We’ve got a proposition for you.”


	7. Talking About The Past As If It Were The Present Will Always Deconstruct The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how many deaths that I die I will never forget,    
>  No matter how many lives that I live I will never regret.

“Well this is nice.” Mark smiled sarcastically as he sat in front of Valtteri. Pastor was standing behind the sat Finn, trying to look menacing. If Mark was honest he was sure he had seen more frightening moths. Valtteri sat calmly in the interrogation room. The mirror spread across the wall behind him and Mark knew Fernando was behind it. That was the deal: information in exchange for seeing Fernando. Mark didn’t care what they thought was going on between Fernando and him any more. He just wanted to see him and talk to him and know he was Ok.

“As you know, we have brought you in here to answer some questions about your time captive in the P-Orsche head quarters.” Valtteri said formally. Mark nodded. “You meet our terms and we will meet yours.”

“So that means no lying.” Pastor snarled. Mark flicked his eyes up to him with a raised eyebrow.

“And how would you know if I was?” Mark asked curiously.

“Why don’t you leave that bit to us.” Valtteri said, forcing Pastor to sit down. Mark forced the smirk from his lips; there was no way they would know, they were just hoping he was going to cooperate.

“Why don’t we start at the beginning?” Valtteri suggested, tapping his pen on his notepad. The dictaphone was recording on the desk by Mark’s elbow just in case Valtteri missed something. Mark pressed his lips tighter together.

“Is he there?” Mark asked, eyes only on the mirror. Valtteri turned over his shoulder to see what Mark was referring to.

“Is not important.” Pastor growled, getting to his feet. “Are you going to be difficult, Webber?”

“Is he?” Mark pressed, eyes glued on Valtteri.

“I don’t know.” Valtteri sighed truthfully.

“But it doesn’t-” Pastor started. Mark spoke over him.

“-Can you find out?” Mark asked softly. Valtteri sighed, pressing his finger to his ear. Pastor rounded the table to Mark as Valtteri got up, muttering into his radio.

“I asked you if you were going to be difficult, Webber.” Pastor snarled, his face inches from Mark’s. Mark tried not to laugh at him.

“I guess we’ll just have to find out.” Mark shrugged.

“Wrong answer.” Pastor took the front of his shirt tightly in his hands, leaning closer to Mark. “Why don’t you try again.” Mark just shrugged as Pastor bared his teeth.

“Alright, Mark.” Valtteri said calmly, resting his hands on the back of the chair. “Pastor.” He said sharply. The Venezuelan shoved Mark back as he let go of him, moving back to Valtteri’s side of the table. Valtteri pointed to the door as it opened slowly. The bustle of noise from the corridor filtered into the room as Mark’s eyes focused on Fernando. He still looked fine. Healthy. A small smile spread on Mark’s face as Fernando stepped into the room.

“Mark?” Fernando asked softly. He wanted to tell Mark he wanted to say stop. He wanted to tell Mark he trusted him explicitly. But now wasn’t the time. Mark turned to face Fernando, eyes bright, but the handcuffs attaching him to the desk hindered his movement. Mark frowned at them, feeling annoyed. Fernando’s heart broke at the sight of Mark being held prisoner. Mark hadn’t done anything. Mark wasn’t in the wrong. Fernando moved forwards only to have Domenicali’s hands on him, pulling him from the room.

“Alright.” Valtteri said as Pastor shut the metal door with a loud clang. Mark’s eyes were glued to the desk. “Let’s start-”

“-I don’t want him to hear.” Mark muttered. Valtteri frowned at him.

“Sorry?”

“Don’t let him hear. Take him somewhere else. I don’t want him to hear what I say.” Fernando frowned from behind the mirror, pushing himself close to the glass. How could Mark be saying all this? Fernando wanted to know. He wanted to know what the P-Orsche had done to him. And now Mark wasn’t going to let him know.

“How about we just get on with this?” Pastor spat, slamming his hands on the desk. Mark ignored him, flinching ever so slightly at the sudden sound.

“Either you get rid of him until this interrogation is done or I don’t talk.” Mark stated confidently. Valtteri sighed, dropping his head. He turned to the mirror.

“Take him to interrogation room C. He can wait in there. We’ll get him when this is over.” Valtteri instructed. There was a bang from the other side of the glass indicating that Fernando was putting up a fight, sounding like he had just hit the window. After a few minutes Valtteri nodded, removing his hand from his ear and turned to Mark.

“How do I know he’s gone?” Mark asked as Valtteri retook his seat.

“You’re just going to have to trust us.” Valtteri sighed, clicking his pen. “So why don’t you tell us what happened on the night you were captured. The night we believed you were dead.” Mark sighed, looking Valtteri straight in the eyes.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I was climbing up the cliff face, following Fernando’s path and I was hit. I fell and then it goes black.”

“You don’t remember anything else?”

“No.” Mark lied assertively. But of course he did. A night like that is not one he was going to forget lightly.

\- - - - - - - - -

“Fuck.” Mark muttered, pushing himself off the ground. He wasn’t sure how far he had fallen but it was enough to have his head spinning. He knew he had been following Fernando. And he had to get back to Fernando. He pushed off the floor, not thinking about anything but getting up that cliff. He had to get back to Fernando. It was important. He knew Fernando was annoyed enough that he had been left out as bait. The only way to calm the fiery Spaniard down was to get to him. Hold him and promise he was fine. That was what he had to do.

“Mark? Do you read? Over.” Fernando’s desperate voice called down the radio. Mark opened his mouth to reply, explain he was nearly there, but someone or something propelled into his back, smashing him into the sharp cliff face. He yelled out in pain as the splintered rocks cut across his face, but a hand was thrown over his mouth, muffling the sound.

“Keep firing at the rock. We don’t want his buddies thinking he’s still alive.” His captive ordered. Mark wrestled in his grip, desperate to signal to Fernando that he was fine. Mark bit down on the hand across his mouth, forcing the guy to recoil in pain. He gripped desperately at his radio, panting for breath.

“Fer-Ahh!” Mark screamed as he was thrown back into the cliff face, spun around and punched hard in the face. Blood seeped from his nose, staining into his balaclava. He felt like he was suffocating. The smell of blood burning through his senses.

“Let’s not be stupid, now.” His captive breathed, pulling at Mark’s balaclava. Mark tried to wrestle against his grip again but it was to no avail. Mark’s balaclava was thrown to the ground as his tracker was pulled from his wrist. Another tore a knife down his arm, cutting against the bump in his skin.

“Fu-”

“-Seriously, buddy. I don’t want to hurt you.” His first captive assured, clamping his hand over his mouth. “But you’ve got to shut the fuck up.”

“Got it, Timo.” The man with the knife said, using the metal point to pull the blood-covered tracker from Mark’s arm. Mark moaned against the hand on his mouth, voice still muffled, as the small thing that had been implanted in his arm was painfully removed. The first guy – Timo – nodded in confirmation as he turned over his shoulder, looking at the chip in the second guy’s hand.

“That heart monitored?” Timo asked. Another man looked at Mark’s tracker still in his hand.

“The light’s gone off.” He nodded. Timo pulled Mark’s radio from him, dropping it to the dusty ground.

“No more need for this.” Timo explained softly as the communications device’s dials were kicked it and it was scooped up into a bag. Mark winced, still weakly fighting against Timo’s grip. But he could feel blood trickling down his arm and over his mouth. His head was feeling light. “How about we start with some pleasantries,” Timo started as gunfire still filled the air. “How about you tell us your name.” Mark spat a mouthful of blood in Timo’s face, causing the German to stumble back slightly. Mark tried to get free, managing to push Timo’s hands off him and punched the guy with the knife in the face, but someone suddenly clamped a hand against the deep long cut in his forearm and he felt to the floor, tears springing in his eyes as he fought with the pain and the nausea feeling. Timo lent close to him, still keeping a tight grip on his arm. “That was rude.” Timo shot, wiping the blood from his face. Mark tried to force himself free but he felt like he would pass out if he moved. He closed his eyes, focusing on Fernando. Focusing on how he had to get back to him. “Tell me-”

“-Timo. A red dot is advancing. Cliff face in thirty seconds.” The third man said. Mark panicked. Of course that would be Fernando. Fernando still trying to get to him.

“Alright. Get them trained up there. Shoot to kill.” Timo ordered to the man with the tracker. Another man nodded and dashed off somewhere.

“No…” Mark muttered lightly.

“Sorry?”

“Don’t… Don’t shoot him… Please…” Mark breathed, spitting more blood on the floor. Everything was swaying. Mark really needed to lie down. This was too much. He just wanted Fernando.

“Don’t shoot who?”

“Him… Red… Don’t shoot…” Mark breathed. Timo’s face swam in his teary blurred vision. He could see the frown. He could see the confusion. But there was no way he was explaining. No way he would tell his captors what was between Fernando and him.

“Hold fire.” Timo muttered into his radio. Mark blinked at him, clearing his eyes slightly as the tears rolled down his face. “I don’t care if he’s fifteen seconds from decent or six. Hold fire until I say.” Timo spat before returning his eyes to Mark. “You’ve got ten seconds to tell me your name or I have no choice.”

“Please…” Mark begged, sagging slightly at the possibility. He couldn’t think of life without Fernando. What would be his point? His purpose? Mark shook his head.

“Eight.”

“Shoot me instead.”

“Six.”

“Please!”

“If he comes down we have to kill him.”

“No!”

“Two.”

“D-”

“-MARK!” Fernando’s voice echoed from the top of the cliff. Mark looked up at the desperate plea but he could only see a cloud of dust. Mark’s eyes raked the area. He hadn’t heard any gunshots. He hadn’t heard anything but Fernando’s despondency. He wished had his radio back. Then at least he could check.

“Mark?” Timo asked softly. Mark’s head automatically snapped to Timo, gaining him a soft smile. “He’s stopped advancing. He’s safe.” Timo explained gently, moving Mark to sit on the edge of a rock. He let go of Mark’s arm and got a first aid kit from his pack. Touching his finger to his ear, Timo nodded. “They’re all together. He’s safe. We didn’t shoot.” Timo smiled, cleaning up Mark’s arm. Mark gasped in pain, feeling bile pile into his stomach. He was sure he was going to be sick. Spitting more blood on the floor and out of his mouth, Mark observed Timo wrapping the cut on his arm in a sterile white bandage. Mark frowned.

“What…?” Mark held his tongue. He wasn’t supposed to ask questions or answer theirs. It was an accident they had found out his name. Timo looked up at him, nodding in encouragement for him to continue. Mark pressed his lips together.

“You want to know why I’m helping you?” Timo guessed. Mark still said nothing. “We want you back alive, Mark. It’s best for us if you’re in one piece.” Timo smiled, wiping the blood from Mark’s face. Still the Australian frowned.

“Area is clear, Timo.” The guy who was carrying the tracker said. Timo nodded, remaining crouched in front of Mark.

“Thank you, Neel.”

“Marc has gone to retrieve… Him.” Neel explained. Timo sighed, getting to his feet.

“Where is Nick?”

“Gone back already. He’s not talking to anyone.”

“Understandable.” Timo nodded. Mark frowned at the conversation.

“They’ve got a van at the top of the cliff.” The guy who had cut into Mark’s arm panted, returning to the small group. “I could take a team up-”

“-That’s quite alright, Brendon. Leave them to mourn Mark.” Timo said, getting to his feet and patting Mark’s shoulder.

“But the Red that was moving forwards? Don’t you think…” Brendon’s voice faded off as Mark thought about what Timo had said. _Leave them to mourn Mark…_ Mark instantly thought of Fernando. How Fernando must being trying to stall that van so he could come and find the Australian. The pain and inner turmoil Fernando would go through if he thought Mark was really dead. How much that would hurt him. How much that would unnecessarily hurt him. And Mark couldn’t do that to Fernando. Fernando would hate Mark for not even trying to get back to him.

“Mark?” Timo said, obviously not for the first time. Mark blinked at him. “Do we need to restrain you or can you just come nicely?” Timo asked as Brendon fiddled with a pain of handcuffs. Mark just nodded, getting to his feet. Timo smiled, taking Mark’s actions as compliance. But Mark had other ideas.

As soon as Timo had turned his back, Mark pulled the baton from the back of his belt and smacked across his head, watching the German crumple to the ground. Brendon turned, startled by his colleague’s sudden fall to have Mark throw himself at him, catching his arm and tripping him over his legs, sending him to the floor. Other’s ran in to help prevent the commotion and Mark tried to take them all, swinging the baton and punching into anyone and everyone who got close to him. Tripping people into each other all the while trying to get hold of a gun.

He made a dash for it when the threat kept appearing, heading straight for the cliff face. He knew they wouldn’t shoot to kill; they wanted him for something: for some reason they were keeping him alive. And it couldn’t be in hope of a rescue mission because they had made sure the Elite thought he was dead. Mark thought only of Fernando as he began his ascent.

“DON’T FUCKING SHOOT HIM!” Timo screamed from just below him. Mark knew he needed to climb fast but the pain in his arm was slowing him down. He grabbed onto the out-sticking rock but as soon as he pulled with his injured arm the pain racked through his body. He yelled out in pain as someone grabbed his ankle, pulling him back to the ground. Mark got himself up as quickly as he could but it was too late. Someone had his arms behind his back; the click and slide of metal letting him know he had been restrained. Timo’s blood covered face advanced towards him and a napkin was placed over his nose. Before Mark could realise it was chloroform he had inhaled. His eyes blew wide in fear as he moaned in panic, trying to shift Timo off him.

“It’s alright, Mark. We just need you to calm down.” Timo explained, panting slightly for breath. Mark’s eyelids grew heavy and he tried desperately to fight it, to not breathe. But he gasped for air, feeling the almost immediate effect smack him in the chest. “Just calm down…” Timo’s voice slurred as Mark fell heavy in Brendon’s arms. His vision swirled and the colours dance, disfiguring everything. “Nice…. Deeeeep… Brreeeeaaatthhhsss…”

Mark’s last solid thought was of Fernando, and how his disappearance must be killing the Spaniard.

\- - - - - - - - -

“Alright,” Valtteri sighed, writing the short sentence Mark had given in his notepad. He looked back up at the Australian. “So you came round and must have been completely confused. Strange place, strange people-”

“-Right.” Mark nodded confidently, concealing his lie perfectly. Valtteri just nodded, placing his fingertips together.

“What’s the first thing you saw? Who did you talk to? What were their names? What did you talk about?” Valtteri asked slowly. Mark blinked at him.

“I don’t remember exactly…” Mark shrugged. Valtteri sighed, slightly defeated.

“Mark,” He started gently. “You’ve got to give us something if you want to see him.” From the sympathetic look Valtteri passed him Mark could have sworn Valtteri knew everything. Having his back to the mirror the Finn had the freedom to use whatever means necessary to get Mark talking. Mark held his eye contact.

“It was a while ago…”

“I know it’s hard. But just think, yeah? Start with the first question.” Valtteri suggested. Mark nodded, sitting forwards and running his hands through his hair. He was acting up the distressed thing. The events of that day would always be clear in his mind.

“Can you repeat it please.” Mark requested softly. Valtteri gave him a small smile, nodding gently.

“What was the first thing you saw?” Mark screwed his eyes as if in thought. Really he was trying to come up with something believable.

“Medical stuff.” Mark said, opening one eye. Valtteri nodded, writing.

“What kind?” He asked, still writing.

“I don’t know. I was hurt when they got to me I guess. I fell off the cliff face. They were obviously trying to heal me.”

“Do you know why?”

“No.” Mark lied.

“Who did you talk to? Do you remember their names?”

“They weren’t using their names. And they all wore surgical masked when they spoke to me.”

“How many were there?”

“Two regulars I think. Other than that I wouldn’t know.”

“What did they talk to you about?” Mark stuttered on this question. He knew exactly what he had told the P-Orsche agents. He also knew that if the Elite found out about it they would never trust him again and he would probably be terminated.

“I…” Mark started, his mouth going dry. Valtteri sat forwards.

“Mark, we need to know. This is important.” Valtteri said softly. Mark frantically wracked his brain for something that wasn’t too incriminating. He wanted to see Fernando.

“I’m not entirely sure-”

“-DON’T LIE!” Pastor yelled, startling Mark as he advanced quickly across the table. Mark frowned at him, one eyebrow cocked in confusion. “WE KNOW YOU ARE LYING! STOP TRYING TO MAKE UP EXCUSES AND TELL US WHAT YOU TOLD THEM!”

“Pastor-”

“-No, Valtteri,” Pastor shot over his shoulder at the Finn. “Your softy soft approach is not working!” He glared. Valtteri shook his head. “So are you going to tell us?” Pastor growled at Mark. Mark just blinked, clearing his throat.

“They asked about the Elite.” Mark muttered, looking at Pastor. “And they asked about me.”

“What did you tell them?” Valtteri asked again, his voice at a normal level as Pastor breathed in Mark’s face.

“They know my name. And that I’m part of the Bull elite.”

“That all?”

“Yes.” Mark clipped, narrowing his eyes at Pastor. “Ever heard of personal space, mate?”

“You don’t deserve it.” Pastor spat through gritted teeth.

“Pastor,” Valtteri implored, pulling on the Venezuelan’s arm. With one last dark look Pastor fell back, slightly behind Valtteri. “So you were held captive for eight days and the only information you told them was your name and your Elite?”

“Yes.” _No._ “Because I’m good at my job.”

\- - - - - - - - -

“Patrick… Straight through his head… Nothing… Could do… Whoever… Good shot…” Words filtered into Mark’s head that made no sense. He groaned as the pain set into his bones, reaching his hand up to rub it across his face. But he couldn’t move his arm. Blinking his eyes open he was momentarily startled by the bright light shinning down on him. But he wasted no time as he looked down to his wrists, fighting against the restraints.

“Alright…” Someone unseen sighed. “Tell Nick to calm down. We’ll sort this.”

“It’s going to take a little more than that.” The voice Mark recognised as Timo’s said. Mark frowned at the confusing conversation. “He wants revenge.”

“And that might not be off the table yet.” The first man said. There was a moment of silence.

“Fritz-” Timo tried.

“-Check on him. See if he’s ready to talk.” The Fritz man said. There was another moment of silence before Timo appeared from behind a screen. He seemed shocked to see Mark awake.

“How are you feeling, Mark?” Timo asked, pressing buttons on a machine Mark couldn’t see next to his head. Mark felt like he had been strapped to an operating table. It unnerved him.

“How long have I been out?” Mark croaked, his voice horse from not being used. Timo smiled at him.

“About twelve hours.” He said calmly as Brendon came into the room. “It’s normal if you’re feeling a bit drowsy.”

“Is he talking yet?” Brendon asked, leaning against the wall. Timo sighed.

“He’s only just woken up.”

“Does that stop him from talking?” Brendon shot, folding his arms. Mark frowned at the guy at the edge of the room. Brendon was obviously from New Zealand, his accent giving him away almost instantly. But Mark could feel a sense of hostility from the Kiwi. And he wasn’t sure why.

“Give him a chance to come to his senses.” Timo muttered, ushering Brendon from the room. Brendon held his ground.

“I will when he tells me the name of the fucker that shot Patrick.” Brendon hissed, pushing past Timo and leaning on the end of Mark’s bed. Mark swallowed uncomfortably. “Someone on your team has a good shot.” He spat, glaring at the Australian. Mark looked at Timo but the German was busying himself with the machine. “Some good cover you have.” Mark just shrugged, looking down at the restraints on his wrists. “Must have been a sniper…” Mark tensed at the thought of Fernando. Twelve hours had passed. What would he be doing? They’d be back by now, right? That meant he was probably in debrief. Probably being hauled through proceedings just about hanging onto himself because he had to. Mark hated them. Mark hated all of the people at the P-Orsche for unnecessarily putting Fernando through it. How dare they. “You know who it is.” Brendon said quietly, leaning forwards. Mark looked him in the eyes, glaring. He wasn’t going to talk. They were going to have to force him. “Who was it?” Brendon asked. “I just need a name.”

“Brendon-”

“-Shut it, Timo.” Brendon spat, leaning closer to Mark. Mark resolutely pressed his lips together. “Who?” The silence that followed Brendon’s question was interrupted only interrupted by the cynical beeping of the machine rigged up to Mark. “I just want a name.”

“You can’t have it.” Mark bit, his arms flinching as he moved to fold them, flawed by the fact his wrists were still tied down. Brendon’s eyes flashed in anger.

“We’ll see.” He spat, sweeping from the room. Timo followed him.

“Where are you going?” Timo asked, just outside the door.

“I think someone might be interested to know that fucker knows the name.” Brendon snarled. Timo grabbed his arm.

“Don’t-”

“-Don’t think you’re better than us, Timo. You should want the same thing.” And then Brendon was gone. Timo didn’t return to the room, following after the New Zealander. Mark sat in silence, simply waiting.

It felt like an eternity before anything else happened. Mark had managed to loosen the bond on his right wrist and was waiting for the opportune moment to free himself. It was only at this point that Mark noticed there was no bandage on his arm where his tracker had been cut from him. No bandage and barely any mark. He had been stumped in amazement. How was it possible that such a deep wound could heal so quickly? He would have asked if it had been Timo that came in first.

Mark was suddenly hauled slightly from the bed, the fuming man’s face inches from his own. And Mark was scared. He was in unknown territory. He didn’t know what could happen. A few more people followed the first man in but no one did anything to get him off Mark. Mark sent a look to Timo but Timo just folded his arms, staring that the man who had his hold on Mark.

“You want to fucking talk!” He screamed in Mark’s face. Mark could see the redness around his eyes, the way they still seemed welled up. This man had been crying. A lot. It just made Mark think of Fernando. How Fernando was probably reacting the same way and it was the P-Orsche’s entire fault. So Mark bit his tongue. “If you’ve got a fucking name now would be a fucking good time to say it!” He barked. Mark said nothing.

“He won’t tell you-” Timo started. But the man slapped Mark’s face, spinning the Australian’s vision. “Nick, that’s not-”

“-Fuck off, Timo!” Brendon snarled from the corner of the room. Mark looked back at the man above him – Nick.

“This will get highly unpleasant if you don’t talk.” Nick breathed, his voice dipped in furious anger. Mark blinked, trying to work him out.

“That’s good training, Mark.” Some other man Mark had only heard once before said. He couldn’t see the man; Nick was blocking his view. “However, I have very unhappy agents and they would like someone to blame. That name is necessary.” Nick bashed Mark’s head against the hard base of the bed.

“TELL ME!” He screamed. No one tried to pull him off Mark as he was pummeled into the table. No one tried to stop Nick’s rage. It was almost as if he was being encouraged.

“He’s loosing consciousness, Nick.” Timo’s voice swirled in Mark’s head as his vision blurred. Still the abuse continued. “He won’t be able to speak if-”

“-If he’s not talking then why does he need to be conscious.” Nick gritted, punching hard onto Mark’s face. Mark felt a warm stream of blood pour from his nose, running down his neck.

“Fritz.” Timo’s voice muttered.

“That’s enough, Nick.” A cold command was given. Mark had lost the ability to differentiate their voices. Nick sat up.

“We need a human test subject, right?” Nick barked.

“You can’t use-”

“-Yes, Nick.” A voice slurred. Mark saw the man approach the bed but he was more focused on not choking on his own blood. The man cupped his face, turning it towards him sharply. “Let’s go and set up.”

With one last punch to the face, everything went black.

\- - - - - - - - -

“I’m sorry, but I’m finding this hard to believe.” Valtteri said, face screwed into a frown. “They had you for eight days and were happy with just knowing your name and sub-elite?”

“Yup.” Mark said calmly, eyeing the door.

“They didn’t want anything else from you?” Mark shrugged.

“I don’t know. That’s all I gave.”

“They didn’t try and force you to talk?”

“Yeah…”

“How?”

“Similar ways to you guys actually.” Mark spat darkly. _Except they didn’t have Fernando._ Valtteri rolled his eyes.

“And you really told them nothing else?”

“Unless they can read my mind…” Mark shrugged, swallowing nervously. That was possibly the wrong thing to say…

\- - - - - - - - -

Mark felt like his head was going to explode. For hours he’d been sitting in this chair, arms tied tightly to the arms. It seemed since his outburst on the cliff they didn’t trust him not to flip out again. Which was understandable. Right now he could easily kill this Nick guy. It appeared they were trying to test some kind of mind reading machine they had developed. It set a pulse into the room that cause Mark’s head to fuzz, making him feel nauseous and had effectively given him a massive headache. He wasn’t sure if it was working at all or whether the bollock they had told him about this room was just that; bollocks.

He kept thinking about Fernando. How he was doing everything in his power to hold his tongue for the Spaniard. How he was trying everything to keep him safe, somehow get back to him. Whenever they would send the pulse into the room he thought about him. Something to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth, tensed as the blinding sting shot through his body. He slumped forwards as the pulse stopped, his ears ringing and his breath coming out in panted bursts.

There had to be a way out of this room.

He imagined how relieved Fernando would be to see him again. Thought about the smile on his face, the gentle brush of his lips. Everything that made Fernando strong and perfect. Mark looked down at his wrists and studies the bonds on them. If he could just get one free he would be able to fight his way out of the room. He tried rolling his wrist over and bending his hand back towards the buckle of the strap but it was to no avail. He couldn’t get close enough nor could he get a good enough grip on the buckle. He needed his other hand. In annoyance he whined, a strangled sound that had no meaning, fighting fruitlessly with the restraint. A man suddenly walked into the room with a clipboard and a lap coat. Mark gritted his teeth, glaring at the floor as he panted for breath.

“Are you focusing on something?” The guy asked, frowning at the papers in front of him. Mark matched his expression, confused by the relevance of the question.

“What?”

“Are you focusing on something?” The guy looked up at him. “Focusing on something that gives you pleasure?” Mark swallowed uncomfortably. There was no possible way they could know that. So Mark shook his head. The guy moved forwards, frowning still, as he got out an Ophthalmoscope. “Weird…” He muttered, holding Mark’s head still as he checked Mark’s eyes. “Just…” He was muttering to himself, moving to the other eye. “Fernando…” Mark tensed, visibly. The man lent back, smiling knowingly and sliding the Ophthalmoscope into his lab coat pocket. He stood in front of Mark, looking down at the clipboard and scribbling notes. “Who’s Fernando-?”

“-No one.” Mark bit sharply, glaring at the mirror in front of him.

“That’s not what you think…” The man said smugly, clicking his pen shut. “Do we need to keep going or are you going to tell us?”

“I’m not telling you anything.” Mark snarled. The man sighed, crouching in front of him.

“Hey,” he said softly, gaining Mark’s attention. “I know this hurts. When we do this.” He gestured to the room. “It will be easier for you if you just tell us.” He continued. Mark just glared at him. There was no way he was revealing Fernando’s identity to them. The man sighed. “I’m Neel, Mark. I made this room. I know how it works. I know what it’s doing to your head.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Mark seethed, turning away from Neel. Neel sighed, getting to his feet.

“How long have you had a headache, Mark?” Neel asked, clicking his pen open again. Mark resolutely kept his mouth shut. “Or how long have you been feeling sick?” Neel tried again. It slowly became clear that Mark was no longer talking to him. Neel headed for the door. “If we keep this up, we’ll muddle your brain so much you won’t be able to differentiate between what’s in your head and what’s real.” Neel opened the door. “And we really don’t want to do that.” Neel lingered, waiting for Mark to say something. When the Australian parted with no words he left the room, shutting the door with a click. Mark fought his binds on his wrist with new determination. He had to get out of here. He had to get out of here now before they found out anything else. He tried to push Fernando firmly from his mind but it was to no avail.

“Who was the sniper, Mark? Who was the sniper that killed Patrick?” Fritz calm voice asked over the intercom. Mark shook his head, trying to press his hands over his ears. He wouldn’t say, but Fernando’s name had come racing to the front of his mind.

“No…” Mark tried weakly. It was too late. There was another pulse and Mark screamed out in pain, thinking of anything but the man he loved.

\- - - - - - - - -

Valtteri frowned at him as Pastor left the room.

“Eight days and you only gave them two pieces of information?” Valtteri clarified. Mark just nodded, bored of the repetition. “Alright…” Valtteri said in a tone that revealed he was not finished with that topic. “Let’s move on…. What happened over the course of those eight days?”

“Lots of stuff.” Mark muttered, resting his chin on his hand.

“Be more specific.” Valtteri stated. Mark rolled his eyes.

“They were doing lots of experiments…” Mark revealed, thinking he was only giving innocent information.

“What kind of experiments?” Valtteri asked, interested. Mark swallowed, sitting back in his chair.

“I don’t know. It’s not like they filled me in before they started.”

“You don’t know much, do you…”

“No. When we have captives here do we tell them everything that is going on?” Mark spat.

“Tell me how they tried to get information from you.”

“They tried torturing me. Normally just punching the crap out of me until I fell unconscious.”

“Or told them something?” Valtteri added, raising an eyebrow at Mark.

“That’s the theory.” Mark shrugged, folding his arms.

\- - - - - - - - -

Mark was sat heavily on a chair in another room immediately after he was brought from the mind-reading experiment. He felt sick. He wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. But the P-Orsche had other ideas. There were three men in the room with him: Fritz, Brendon (who was keeping him upright on the chair) and Nick. Nick was standing just out of Mark’s peripheral vision as Fritz placed a chair in front of the Australian, sitting down.

“We haven’t been formally introduced,” he started as someone let Mark’s wrists free from behind him. They fell limply to his side. Fritz held out his hand. “I’m Fritz Enzinger, head of the Legalism Master Program One, or LMP-1 if you prefer. It’s my job to train our special agents at their highest level.” Mark nodded sluggishly, feeling like that was a lot of information to try and remember right now. “How about you tell me who you are?”

“Mark Webber…” Mark slurred. Fritz smirked.

“Nice to meet you, Mark.”

“And you, Fuzz.” Mark nodded. Brendon had to dive forwards to stop him smacking his forehead on the desk.

“Who is Fernando?” Fritz asked gently. Mark shook his head, frowning.

“No…” He whined, pouting. Fritz put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright, Mark.” Fritz said softly. Mark continued to shake his head. “Alright, how about we do an exchange. I’ll tell you something and you tell me.”

“Not talking about Fernando.” Mark continued to pout. Fritz dropped his head.

“I’m hoping you’re going to change your mind, Mark.” Fritz said. Mark frowned at him.

“Why would I?”

“We have…. Reasons.” Brendon nodded. Mark blinked at him, completely confused.

Until it happened.

“Mark?” Mark’s head snapped to the mirror. His voice was indisputable. There could be no mistake about who was talking. Mark swallowed, not wanting to give the game away. Not want to let the P-Orsche know exactly whom they had. But Mark couldn’t help it. The smile spread on his lips before he could contain it. Fernando had come. Fernando had come to find him.

“So how about you tell me who Fernando is.” Fritz said calmly. Mark didn’t take his eyes off the mirror.

“Another agent…” Mark muttered, trying to see through the mirror. It was pointless.

“Is he a sniper?” Brendon asked. The smile slid from Mark’s face. If they knew who Fernando was and what he had done they would kill him. _He wants revenge… Might not be off the table…_

“Let me see him.” Mark said, eyes only for the mirror. Brendon stood in his gaze path.

“Is he a sniper?”

“Let. Me. See. Him.” Mark gritted. Fritz got to his feet.

“Thank you, Brendon.” He muttered, turning to face Mark. “Tell us who he is, Mark. You tell us and things settle down-”

“-No.” Mark spat. Revealing that would surely killed Fernando. And he wouldn’t do that.

“Alright…” Fritz sighed. Mark frowned at him as he turned his back but suddenly his chair was being propelled forwards from behind and Mark heaped onto the floor. As Mark tried to push himself from the floor he was hoisted to his knees, something painfully digging into his side.

“AAAHHHHHHH!” Mark yelled.

“Enough.” Fritz said softly. The pain was removed and Mark was dropped back to the floor, panting hard. “That was a shock of 200 volts, Mark. But it had a low current. You’re going to be alright.” Fritz explained, moving the chair to the edge of the room. He crouched in front of Mark. “I know a big secret about you, Mark. Something that would completely change your view of your precious Elite. Would you like to hear it?” Mark was panting heavily and in no mood or position to answer. “Don’t make me increase the voltage, Mark. It will hurt much more.”

“What… What d-do you… Want…?” Mark breathed, trying to stop the vivid images of Fernando flashing in front of his eyes. Mark knew this was the after effect Neel had been talking about. He was determined to fight it.

“Who is Fernando?” Fritz pressed. Mark sank back to the floor, shaking his head. “Nick.” The pain was almost unbearable. Mark couldn’t stop his body fitting terribly, thrashing across the floor like a fish out of water. The sounds coming from his mouth were indescribable, setting Brendon’s skin on fire.

“FUCK!” Mark screamed once he had been released.

“We have a machine. It’s irrelevant what the machine does, but it’s a precious machine. It’s been in the developmental stages and experimental stages for years. We’ve finally finished it.” Fritz explained before casually gesturing his hand for Nick to attack Mark again. The gauge coming close to lethal.

“PLEASE STOP! FUCK!” Mark hollered, his voice ringing through the basically empty room. Nick let Mark up on Fritz’s nod.

“Mark, this stops when you give us what we want-”

“-I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT!” Mark screamed from the floor, tears pouring down his eyes. He couldn’t bear the thought that Fernando was so close, witnessing all this. He wanted to see him. He wanted to see his smile. This was horrible. His head was spinning and he couldn’t make it stop.

“Who is Fernando?” Fritz pressed, the rage in his voice clear.

“Let me see him…” Mark sobbed, clutching his hands over his head. Fritz sent his foot into Mark’s side at a harsh speed, watching as the Australian rolled over, clutching it in pain.

“That’s not the deal. We let you live for telling us!” Fritz barked, glaring down at Mark.

“Please… Please, let me see him and I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell you everything you want to know…” Mark sniveled.

“NICK!” Fritz bellowed, glaring down at the Australian as the electric pulse was sent through his body.

“FUCK! STOP! PLEASE! I CAN’T-FUCK!” Mark shrieked clawing at his own skin. Nick let up without being ordered to, a pang of sadness aching through his body.

“Is Fernando the… The Sniper?” Nick asked quietly, tears welling in his eyes. Mark whimpered, curling into himself as Fritz frowned at his agent. Nick placed a gentle hand on Mark’s cheek. “Mark…” Nick whispered. “Mark, he’s is here. He’s behind the mirror. I promise, Mark. I promise. He came here for you. He came here to rescue you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Fernando’s voice danced through the room. Mark’s breath caught in his throat at the casualness of Fernando’s voice.

“I know what you have…” Nick admitted. Brendon placed a hand on Fritz’s shoulder, preventing him from moving forward to Nick. “I had it to. I know you would do anything to protect him. I know you would give your life for his. For me, Mark, tell me... Give me closure for Patrick….” Nick sighed, brushing the tear from his eye. “Is Fernando a sniper?”

 _Do not tell him, Mark…_ Mark looked at the mirror sharply at the sound of the voice. He blinked. He was sure he had heard Fernando speak but no one had reacted to it. _Mark?_ Mark turned to his left, looking to the sound of the voice. Fritz frowned at him like he was mental.

“Fernando?” Mark asked. Brendon and Fritz exchanged a look.

_Do not let them know it was me. Will kill me. Do you want me dead?_

“No! No, of course I don’t want that.” Mark pleaded with the air. Nick looked at Fritz and Brendon for some kind of support.

_Do not tell them. Will hurt me-_

“-I won’t let them.” Mark bit confidently, blinking the tears from his eyes. “I’m here. I can protect you.”

 _Are not doing good job at the moment…_ Mark was confused by Fernando’s comment but the sound of pain suddenly burnt into his consciousness.

“Fuck!” Fernando yelled. Mark sprang up, throwing himself at the mirror.

“STOP! PLEASE STOP!” Mark bawled pounding his fist against the mirror. Brendon took his arms, pulling him away. Mark thrashed out his legs. “LET HIM GO! LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

“Is he the fucking sniper or do we have to kill you and dissect your brain for the answer?” Fritz growled, pulling out a knife as Brendon forced Mark to his knees. Mark flinched at every hit of pain that could be heard over the intercom.

“Mark…” Fernando sobbed. Mark gritted his teeth.

_Cannot hurt me if you do not tell them. Will not kill me. Need information I have._

“I can’t just sit here and listen to them beat you, Fernando!” Mark spat, trying to get out of Brendon’s grip. Fritz frowned at Mark.

_They cannot hurt me._

“I can hear they are!” Mark bellowed. Fritz grabbed Mark’s neck tightly in one hand, forcing the Australian to look at him.

“Tell me and we won’t kill your little friend.” Fritz bargained.

_Do not, Mark. Trust you. Trust me._

The mirror smashed and Mark recoiled as the shards of glass flew towards him. But now Mark could see. Mark could see Fernando’s blood covered body as he was beat with a metal pole, one man in a balaclava holding him up by his arms. Fernando spat blood on the floor as the man kicked him in the gut, smacking the side of his head with the pole.

“STOP! PLEASE! LEAVE HIM! Please… Fucking … Stop…!” Mark broke down in sobs, falling limp in Brendon’s arms. Brendon frowned, looking between Fritz, Nick and the still intact mirror, trying to work out what Mark was pleading for. The sounds of Fernando’s abuse had long been shut off.

_Mark… Am fine…_

“You’re not… You’re lying!” Mark wailed, glaring up at the horrific image of Fernando in front of him. Fernando tried to reach for him but his arm was pulled sharply behind him, causing him to throw his head back in pain and open up his body for another hit. He screamed Mark’s name as someone cut along that scar on his wrist, their scar. Mark’s eyes opened wide in fear as he watched his lover slowly begin to bleed to death.

“Mark?” Fritz tried as Mark gazed at something that wasn’t there. Mark shook his head.

“I don’t know… Please… I don’t know… I don’t know what you want from me…” Mark sobbed. “Just leave him… Let him live...”

“It’s him or you, Mark.” Brendon spat. “If he’s the sniper he killed one of us, therefore he has to die. But if you won’t tell us then we have to kill you.”

“No… No, please…” Mark begged. He screamed, trying to cower away as Fernando’s limp body was thrown into the room. He fought with Brendon but eventually he was let free and he scarpered over to Fernando, brushing his hair out of his face. Cupping his pale face in his hands. He pulled the Spaniard onto his lap, Fernando’s blood smearing all over his hands. But it didn’t matter. None of it did. “Fernando? Fernando, please. It’s ok. You’re safe, I’ve got you… Talk to me…” Mark pleaded, his tears splashing onto Fernando’s face.

_Mark…_

“I’m here. It’s fine… Come on, mate, stay with me…” Mark begged. Nick frowned at Mark pleading with nothing in his arms.

“Something is not right.” Nick said as Mark desperately ran his hands across the floor.

“Get Neel.” Fritz nodded and Nick dashed from the room.

_Have to die…_

“You don’t…” Mark spluttered. Fernando tried to reach up and touch his face but the blood ran from the cut across his scar. It fell limply on the floor and Mark grabbed at it, pressing it to his cheek. “No!” Mark called, shaking Fernando slightly, trying to get his eyes back open. Nothing happened. “NO!” Mark tried again, no mercy in his frantic shakes. “FERNANDO! FERNANDO, PLEASE!” Mark begged, sobbing and pressing Fernando’s hand to his cheek as his blood stained onto his face. He turned to the other men in the room. “HELP ME!” He growled at them, pulling Fernando closer. Neither of them moved. They seemed frozen in time. But Mark didn’t care. Mark hated them. They weren’t even reacting to the massacre they had created. Mark hugged him closer. “FERNANDO!” He yelled, angry that the Spaniard would leave him here alone. But his anger washed away as he clutched tighter to Fernando’s body. “Fernando….” He sobbed, wept for what felt like hours. Clutching and rocking Fernando’s limp body. It couldn’t be true.

“Mark?” Neel said, crouching in front of the Australian. Mark tried to offer Fernando to the man, tears streaming down his face. Neel just took Mark’s wrist instead. “Mark, there is nothing in your arms…” Mark frowned at the comment, looking down at Fernando. He was there. Mark was holding him.

“He’s-”

“-We can’t see anything, Mark. You’re imagining this.” Neel tried. Mark shook his head.

“You’re wrong.”

“This is an after effect of the mind room. You need to tell yourself this isn’t real.”

“But it is-!”

“-Mark, there is nothing there.” Nick said from just behind Neel.

“Mark?” Fernando’s voice called from behind the mirror. Mark looked up at it, all in one piece. Nothing was making any sense.

“Let me see him…” Mark muttered, frowning at the mirror. Brendon and Fritz exchanged a look.

“Neel.” Fritz said, raising an eyebrow. Neel looked pained.

“He’s confused. If you let him-”

“Do it.” Fritz ordered. Neel sighed, pulling something from his lab coat pocket.

“I’m sorry, Mark.” Neel said, catching the back of Mark’s neck and pressing a napkin to his face. Fernando slipped from Mark’s grip as in a flash of clarity, everything made sense as everything went black and he fell heavily against the floor.

At least he knew Fernando was alive.

\- - - - - - - - -

Pastor walked back into the room carrying a metal case. He had it tucked over one arm, letting the handle tap noisily against the side with every step. Mark desperately looked out of the door as the Venezuelan walked in but it was shut so quickly Mark would have been lucky to catch a flash of the man he wanted to see. Valtteri studied him curiously as Pastor put the case on the table.

“Do you know what this is?” Pastor asked, unclipping the case. Mark turned from the door to face him.

“Huh?”

“This.” Pastor repeated, looking at Mark and indicating with his head. “Do you know what this is?” Mark looked down at the case as Pastor tipped the lid back. He didn’t know for sure but he had a vague idea.  It made him swallow nervously.

“No…” He said, his eyes gluing to the small jar of fluid as Pastor filled a syringe.

“I think you do…” Pastor muttered, focusing on his hands.

“Won’t be able to lie in a moment…” Valtteri smiled, rocking back in his chair. Mark panicked a little.

“We don’t have to do it like this.” Mark assured, watching the clear liquid fill the syringe. “We can just talk. I’m telling you, aren’t I?”

“But are you?” Valtteri asked, sitting forwards. Mark blinked at him.

“Yes.” He scoffed. “I want my half of the deal. What motivation would I have to lie?”

“If you’re not lying you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Valtteri shrugged. Mark got out of his chair, moving as far away from Pastor as possible as he advanced with the full syringe.

“I don’t think this is necessary.” Mark said, eyes only for the syringe. Valtteri stood but the chains attaching him to the desk restricted Mark.  

“We have reason to believe it is.”

“I’m telling you everything! Why don’t you trust me!” Mark bit as Valtteri tried to forced him back into the chair. Mark kicked the chair away, feverishly trying to get away from Pastor.

“Calm down.” Valtteri said. Mark dragged the desk across the floor slightly in an attempt to escape.

“I’m answering your questions!”

“But what are you hiding?” Pastor shot, glaring at Mark. Mark shook his head but as Valtteri pushed the desk back he was thrown forwards, stumbling and crashing onto the floor. Pastor pinned him down. “Hold still or this might hurt.” Pastor spat, rolling Mark over. Valtteri unlocked his wrists and held his arm still as Pastor injected the truth serum into his arm. Once it was all in Mark they both got up, locking Mark back to the desk.

“Let’s give him ten minutes to let this kick in, then we’ll come back and finish.” Valtteri said, straightening his shirt. Pastor nodded, leading the way out of the room. “Ten Minutes, Mark. Have some water or something.” Valtteri said before shutting the door.

“What is gong on?” Fernando asked, hoping off the desk he was sitting on as Valtteri and Pastor appeared. “Can I go in now?”

“No. We’re taking a ten minute recess.” Valtteri explained as Pastor moved away with the case. Fernando frowned at him. “How are you?”

“Am fine. How is Mark?” Fernando said eyes sliding back to the Finn.

“He’s talking, at least. Which is good.” Valtteri nodded.

“What was in the case?”

“That is a need to know basis, Fernando. So-”

“-Need to know.” Fernando stated, folding his arms. Valtteri ran a hand over his face.

“You don’t.”

“What was in the case?” Fernando asked, grabbing Valtteri’s arm as he tried to move away.

“Fernando, let me go and get a coffee, alright? I’m doing what I can.” Fernando let the Finn go, waiting for him to disappear down the corridor before he headed to Mark’s room.

“Fernando.” Andrea sighed, leaning on the door leading to the concealed room behind the mirror. Fernando let go of the door handle. “They’ve given him truth serum.” Andrea explained, folding his arms. Fernando’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“He’s holding back information. Even I can tell.” Andrea said sympathetically. Fernando moved to move into the interview room holding Mark. Andrea grabbed his shoulder. “Do not-”

“-Cannot just sit here and let-”

“-Why not?” Andrea asked. “Do you not want him back?”

“Of…” Fernando thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. “Of course.”

“Why would you not want this?” Fernando turned away, setting himself back on the desk in the sister room to Mark’s.

“Does not matter.”

“Do you know something?” Andrea asked. Fernando ran his fingers over the smooth skin of his left wrist.

“No.”

“Fernando-”

“-Was almost dead, Andrea. How do you expect me to remember what happened to me?” Fernando spat. Andrea patted his shoulder.

“Go for a walk, Fernando. This waiting around is not going to help you.” He muttered softly before disappearing down the hall. Probably on a coffee run. Fernando shook his head, getting back to his feet and rushing to Mark’s door. His hand stalled on the handle as he stood on his tiptoes looking through the small window in the wall. Mark was pushing himself off the floor, hands still chained to the desk as he used his foot to pull his chair back to him, falling into it heavily. Fernando’s heart panged for him to go in but with Mark on truth serum that could cause to be potentially problematic.

Mark looked over at the door seeing the calm brown eyes at the window. He knew it was Fernando. Mark smiled gently, giving a little wave. Fernando’s eyes crinkled, showing he was smiling. What Mark would have given to see his smile. He could feel the truth serum seeping into him, making his brain feel slightly sluggish. But he had a complete concept of what he should and shouldn’t say. What he was trying to hide and what he wasn’t. As he watched Fernando’s eyes disappear from the window, he could only smile at the fact the Elite had stuff a lot weaker than the P-Orsche.

\- - - - - - - - -

Mark had been sat alone for a long time feeling a lot sharper than he had before. The side of his head was throbbing and he knew that was where he had fallen on it, smacked it against the cool tiled floor. He was sitting on the desk with his feet on the chair, rubbing the raw skin on his wrists. They had finally stopped restraining him, but that worried Mark as much as it enthralled him.

Mark was exhausted. He had lost track of how long he had been here due to the amount of times he had been unconscious. Maybe two days, possibly three? It was highly possible the P-Orsche agents were lying to him about times. He assumed it had been about a day since he had seen Fernando thrown through the mirror. Or, he hadn’t. That still kind of confused Mark.

“Mark.” Fritz nodded, entering the room. Mark looked up at him, sitting up straighter. “How can I help?”

“I have a request.” Mark said weakly, his voice broken from not being used. Fritz nodded, perching beside him.

“What’s that?”

“I want something.”

“What?”

“Fernando…. Please… I want Fernando… Don’t kill me… Let me see him first… Please…” Mark sounded exhausted, his voice breaking on the simple request. Fritz stood, folding his arms.

“You know the conditions.”

“Please, I’ll tell you everything, _anything_ you want afterwards. I just need to see him… I need to know he’s alright…” Mark muttered, his eyes filling with tears. Fritz observed him for a moment.

“Why?”

“Because I love him?” Mark said, defeated. He didn’t care that he was telling his enemies his biggest weakness; he was willing to do anything to see Fernando. He just needed to see him looking well, fine. The horrific images of his limp dead, blood-covered body still filled his head. He needed it gone. He needed to see Fernando well. Fritz sat next to him again.

“And you’d do anything for him?” Fritz had adopted a father-like tone. He approached Mark like he had encountered this situation before. Mark’s thoughts flew to Nick.

“Anything.”

“Then tell me who the sniper is.” Fritz said, his voice remaining in its calm tone. Mark pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes.

“I can’t do that…” Mark breathed, forcing back the tears. Fritz rubbed across his back gently.

“Then I’m sorry. We have no choice…”

“What?” Mark looked up, confused, just as the stun dart hit his neck.

\- -

Why did this keep happening? Mark felt disorientated and heavy. He was sat in another fucking chair with no idea what was going on. The room was bright and water streamed from his eyes at the intensity. He could see there were people around him but he couldn’t define their faces. Not yet, anyway. He groaned as ache and pain set into his body. Reaching to rub his face he found that, again, his wrists hand been restricted. His ankles also.

“Fuck sake…” Mark muttered, dropping his head forwards.

“I’m going to give you one last opportunity,” Fritz started. Mark blinked at him, taking in Timo, Brendon, Nick, Neel and a few other guys in. Fritz slapped him, pulling his attention back.

“Ow.” Mark muttered sarcastically. Fritz ushered Neel over and he appeared holding a syringe.

“Do you know what this is?” Fritz asked. Mark looked at it, apparently bored. “It’s truth serum. Have you ever been in contact with this stuff before?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Mark sighed in a bored manner.

“Neel here is going to put this in your arm if you don’t cooperate.” Fritz said before clapping Neel’s shoulder. Neel moved back to Mark’s arm, tying it to the back of the chair. “Do you know what it will do to you?”

“Make me tell the truth?” Mark stated. Fritz chuckled lightly, leaning down so his face was close to Mark’s.

“Not just that. It will make you tell us _everything._ ” Mark blinked, the first sign of fear flickering in his eyes. “All those little secrets that you even probably forgot about. All of them will come pouring out and you won’t even be able to think about stopping them. This will cloud your mind and fuck with your judgment. You’ll tell us exactly who Fernando is with the smallest prompt.” Fritz smiled as the colour drained from Mark’s face. “And I’m not sure that’s something you want.”

“I still won’t tell you.” Mark said, forcing his voice not to break. Fritz straightened up.

“We give you a shot of this and you’ll have no choice.”

“Where’s Fer-”

“-Let me tell you something, Mark.” Fritz said, beginning to pace in front of the Australian. Mark winced as Neel rubbed a numbing oil on his arm. Now he wouldn’t know. It would just happen. Suddenly he would spew the truth. Mark tried to shuffle away from Neel but he held him still, tying the ribbons on his arms tighter. “You’re Elite is not as special as you think.” Fritz continued. “They’ve stolen most of their ideas from us. But not just us: Toy-Ota, A.U.D.I, all of us. Bernie is a… Clever man. He knows how to get what he wants.” Fritz nodded along with some of his agents. “You remember the Machine I spoke of, yes, Mark?”

“What… What about it…?” Mark asked, still trying to get away from Neel. The syringe sitting innocently on its metal tray, waiting for its moment to shine.

“Bernie wants it.” Fritz declared. “And, by God, is he determined to get his hands on it. Do you know what it does?”

“I don’t even know what machine you’re talking about.” Mark spat. Fritz crouched beside him, pointing at the mirror.

“Above that room it a vault. You can’t get into it easily. That’s where we hold the Machine.”

“What does it do then?” Mark frowned, switching his gaze to Fritz and the mirror.

“It is a developmental steroid, Mark. We’ve not tested it out on humans yet, but it’s had a one hundred per cent success rate on rats and rabbits.”

“Fantastic.” Mark frowned. “Why are you telling me?”

“Bernie wants it.” Fritz explained. “He came to us a few months ago and asked for us to hand it over. We told him there was no chance of that.” Fritz stood, facing Mark again. “So he made us a deal.”

“He said he would provide us with a human test subject in exchange for handing over the machine once it was complete and successful. But, obviously, we aren’t going to hand over the only one we have. The one residing in the vault will be less developed to the one we are currently working on downstairs. But we know not to cross Bernie. So we have to give him what he asked for, even if it’s not the best one on the market.”

“Right… Still struggling to find the relevance…” Mark said, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“You’re that test subject.” Fritz said. Mark scoffed at him.

“No, it’s an accident I’m here. You shot at me. I was left without cover whilst-” Mark suddenly stopped talking, the penny dropping. Fritz smiled.

“Now you know why we haven’t killed you… Yet.”

“No, because I had cover.” Mark protested.

“That was taken away from you.”

“It was supposed to be completely removed but your cover had other ideas.” Brendon said sourly. Mark shook his head.

“Aren’t you shocked at how easy your star agent’s run was?” Fritz asked. Mark’s fists clenched. One thing was for certain; Sebastian was not their star agent. “My team of Specials and juniors was prepped to be going after you. Bernie gave us your file and everything. We knew exactly who we were looking for. We got you in exchange for letting your agents find a way into our freezer. Because we have to hand over the machine once it’s done. That’s the deal. But we get you now. There will be no rescue mission.”

“But Fernando-”

“-Isn’t here.” Fritz said calmly. Mark shook his head again.

“No. I heard him. I spoke to him.” Mark said, face contorting in confusion. Timo moved towards him, holding out Mark’s Elite radio.

“Mark?” it said in Fernando’s voice. There was a click before: “That’s what I’m here for.” And another signaling: “Fuck!”

“We’ve cut the radio transmissions from that night. Cut it to clips of his voice so he sounds like he’s here. He’s not. It was a lie. We were trying to get you to talk.” Fritz explained as the radio circled those three phrases. Mark shook his head, not believing any of it.

“You’re lying.”

“I was.” Fritz corrected. “Now I’m telling you the truth.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to talk.” Fritz stated. “It’s clear you’re Elite don’t care about you. Their mission on that night was to deliver you to us. Why are you holding your tongue for people who do not care?” Fritz spat, suddenly annoyed. But Mark shook his head. Horner could not need him, Ecclestone could not need him, no one could ever need him again but he would never rat Fernando out. Because Fernando would always need him. Like he always needed Fernando. “Are you going to talk?”

“No.” Mark said defiantly. Fritz sighed.

“Have it your way.” As Fritz moved across the room to fetch a chair Neel pushed the needle into Mark’s skin, breaching the soft tissue and depositing the serum into his arm. Mark didn’t feel a thing. Fritz sat in front of him.

“Who’s Fernando?” Fritz exasperated.

“My boyfriend.” Mark said calmly. “Well, secret boyfriend.” He amended, unaware that he was suddenly spinning off information. “The Elite doesn’t like it, says our love is a weakness. But I think it makes me stronger because I’d put my life on the line for his. And I’m not saying I wouldn’t do that for Jenson or any of the others but I’d make sure Fernando was safe first. He’s my priority.” Mark nodded.

“Who’s Jenson?” Brendon asked, slightly confused.

“My friend. He’s another agent in another sub-elite. The Laren Elite.” Mark nodded. “I’ve never liked the look of that Elite; Ron’s a bit scary…” Mark shrugged.

“And Fernando is in your elite?” Fritz asked. Mark shook his head.

“God no. Fernando wouldn’t leave Red. They’ve made him who he is.”

“Right… So, how many elites are there?” Timo asked, feeling lost already.

“Eleven. Five field elites and six based elites. So things like weaponry, medical…” Mark nodded.

“Is Fernando a Sniper?”

“Fernando’s great.” Mark nodded, smile stretching across his face. “He’s really good at his job but then he’s also really shit at it because he hates it, you know? Like, I remember the first job we had together in the field, his first kill. He could barely believe he had done it. He spent all night wrapped in my arms, cursing at what a horrible person he was. I told him he couldn’t let it stop him because he was too good. He had to kill and forget. Because if you guys killed him you wouldn’t let it worry you. Just one on the long long list, right?” Mark smiled but no one echoed it. He cleared his throat. “But you wouldn’t manage to kill him anyway because I’d stop you.”

“You would, would you?” One of the other guys said.

“Whose that?” Mark asked Neel.

“Romain.”

“I know a Romain! Do you know him? Romain Grojean?” Mark asked. The Frenchman folded his arms.

“No.”

“Oh well… He’s a nice guy.”

“Field agent?” Fritz asked.

“Yeah!” Mark nodded. “Do you know him?”

“No.”

“Oh…”

“Alright, Mark, let’s get down to it. I Fernando a Sniper, yes or no?”

“Yes.” Mark nodded. Nick’s jaw locked. “But then in some way we all are. Jenson has a mean shot. And don’t give Kimi a sniper rifle. That’s just an excuse for explosions, mate.”

“So which one shot Patrick?” Nick demanded, getting frustrated.

“How the fuck do you expect me to know?” Mark scoffed. “Can you believe this guy?” Mark asked Neel. Neel just shook his head.

“You must know!” Nick yelled.

“Who was your sniper on the rock face?” Brendon asked, holding Nick’s shoulder. Mark shrugged.

“Fernando’s our main sniper but I don’t know who killed your friend.”

“Was Fernando covering you?” Fritz asked.

“When?”

“Just before your agent got to our base and you all fell back.”

“Oh, no.” Mark shook his head. “He was covering Seb.”

“Seb? How many fuckers are there?” Romain asked, annoyed.

“Ten field agents, twelve base agents.”

“Why in the world would anyone need twenty-two agents?” Romain scoffed. “We have seven and we do just fine!”

“Six.” Nick corrected darkly.

“Who is Seb?” Fritz asked, rubbing his temples.

“Seb is what you call our ‘star agent’ but that’s bollocks because there are loads better than him.”

“Seb got to the freezer room?” Timo said for clarification.

“I don’t know but that’s who Fernando was covering instead of me.” Mark shrugged.

“Wait, _instead_ of you?” Brendon asked. Mark nodded.

“He was really pissed about it. But I’m not too worried.”

“What?” Nick asked.

“About Fernando. He’ll be on his way about now. With a rescue team.”

“Mark, I told you, there will be no rescue team.” Fritz said sharply. Mark shook his head.

“There will because Fernando promised me. He promised he would save me if I got caught. Just like I promised him.”

“When was this?” Fritz asked in a tired voice, looking defeated. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.

“About four years ago. He was scared when he had to dedicate himself to the-”

“-Alright. I don’t want to know about that.” Fritz said, holding his hand up. Mark looked slightly crest-fallen.

“Oh… Well, what do you want to know then?” Mark asked brightly.

“Fernando was supposed to be covering you?” Brendon asked. Mark rolled his eyes.

“No, Kiwi, listen.” Mark said. “He wanted to cover me because we love each other and he knew how vulnerable I was. He told me about the advancing Special but I couldn’t see him. He was really pissed when he was pulled away from covering me and then he tried to cover me again but something happened to make all of the juniors go shit crazy. I was lucky to get out of there alive. What ever he did probably saved me.”

“That’s enough of a confession for me.” Fritz nodded, getting up. “Someone shut him up and get the first dose in him. Bernie’s given us a week to test.”

“Bernie? Fernando will fight passed him to save me.” Mark said smugly. Fritz rolled his eyes.

“Make sure you send the route path to Bernie. Don’t tell him our plans for Fernando.” Fritz muttered to Brendon as Timo and Neel worked on sedating Mark again and starting the first session with the Machine.

\- - - - - - - - -

“How are you feeling, Mark?” Valtteri asked, retaking his seat in front of the Australian. Pastor sat next to him, sipping on his coffee. Mark just shrugged, trying not to think about his incline to answer that question. He felt better having known he had been hit with truth serum. At the P-Orsche they hadn’t told him. He’d had no chance to fight back.

“This wasn’t necessary.” Mark muttered, brushing his feet on the floor.

“What did you tell the P-Orsche?” Valtteri repeated.

“My name. My elite. Stuff about me.” Mark shrugged. Valtteri looked at Pastor. “They were really just trying to find out who shot their man…” Internally cursing himself, Mark dropped his head.

“What do you mean?”

“I had a Special advancing on me that evening when I was lost. Fernando was covering me and he killed that Special. They were trying to find out who killed him.”

“And you told them?” Valtteri asked as he scribbled down some notes.

“No.” Mark lied, shaking his head. He ignored the part of his brain that urged him to tell them what had happened. It wasn’t that strong.

“So it’s coincidence that that killer was Fernando and the trap was set up to capture Fernando when they went out on the heist mission?” Pastor grunted, looking slightly smug. Mark blinked at him.

“I guess. Or they could have targeted him because he hung about trying to save me on that evening.” Mark shrugged. The smug look dropped from Pastor’s face.

“Alright.” Valtteri said. “Let’s talk about the Heist trap. It was set up purely to get Fernando?”

“Yes.” Mark nodded, trying to work out if that was incriminating. “I don’t know why, but they told me to wait for him.”

“Wait for him?”

“Has he told you anything?”

“No. That’s what we’re hoping you’ll do.”

“Right.” Mark would give them a brief, but he would leave out the details.

\- - - - - - - - -

“Hey, Mark.” Neel smiled, entering the interview room he was being held in since the truth serum incident. Mark just nodded, running his hand over his arms and looking at his toned muscles. He’d only been here about a week, how was it possible he had gained so much muscle mass? “How are you today?” Neel asked, placing his lunch on the table. Mark shrugged, picking up the apple. Everything else tasted like iron after being rigged up to the Machine. “Don’t tell me you’re not talking again.”

“You lied to me.” Mark muttered, swallowing his apple chunk. Neel sat next to him.

“You didn’t ask.”

“You told me he was here.”

“I’ve told you we’re working on that.” Neel nodded, patting Mark’s shoulder lightly. Mark just shook his head.

“If there is no rescue mission how the fuck do you think you’re going to get him here? And if there is a rescue mission he’s going to want me to go back.”

“Do you want to go back?” Neel asked. Mark dropped his eyes to the fresh white shirt they had given him. The P-Orsche shirt. They were happy to accept him into the team, train him as a LMP-1 Special. They recognised his talents and frequently told him so, impressed by how well he held out in interrogation.

And then there was all the stuff about the F1 Elite too.

As well as enhancing his muscles and increasing his stamina the Machine had also cleared his mind. With the constant retelling of stories about the Elite and Bernie, Mark was starting to seriously doubt the Elite and it’s motives. Mark wanted Fernando out of there, safe, here with him. And he knew Fritz would let them be together. He had let Nick and Patrick be in love.

“No.” Mark said sharply, his anger pounding at his hatred towards the Elite. How they were all so disposable. How, today, maybe it had been Mark but tomorrow it could easily be Fernando. He needed Fernando safe, here with him. Neel nodded, placing his Elite uniform on the desk. Mark retreated from it.

“If he thinks you’ve joined us, Mark, he’ll never come with you.” Neel explained. Mark frowned.

“Hey?”

“We need you to persuade him to stay, let him know it’s better here. Use whatever excuse you want.”

“You want me to persuade him?”

“Who better than the man he loves, eh?” Neel said softly. Mark frowned deeper.

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“-Mark, you told us. You told us that and that you think he’s on his way on some sort of rescue mission because he promised you.” Neel explained. Mark looked at him blankly.

“What?” He breathed. Neel sighed.

“When we had you on truth serum, you told us. You told us a lot about him.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s normal to have amnesia after sessions like that. Your brain has probably masked over it because it’s ashamed of what you revealed.”

“I wouldn’t have said-”

“-Here.” Neel said, holding out a cassette player. Mark took it, dubiously. “Listen to it. This is what you’ve told us.” Mark took the headphones and sat down. “Let me know if you’re willing to help.” As Neel headed out of the room something soft hit his back. He turned around to see the white shirt on the floor by his feet. Looking up he saw Mark pulling his old Elite shirt on.

“I’m ready. Just tell me when.” Mark said before slipping the headphones over his ears. Neel just nodded, departing the room.

\- -

“Do you understand?” Brendon asked, walking him through the P-Orsche building. Mark was taking it all in, having never left the bottom floor before.

“Do what it takes to get him to stay.” Mark nodded, looking into a classroom-like room as they passed. With such a simple set up Mark was sure he’d have been able to maneuver it in the dark.

“Don’t worry about how much you hurt him, Mark. We can patch him up.” Mark swallowed uncomfortably. He had no intentions of hurting Fernando.

“Right.”

“Now, we need to get him alone. The team is due to be heading here in the next few days.” Brendon said, ascending the stairs. Mark just nodded. “All you’ve got to do is get him in here alone.” Brendon led Mark into an observation room looking into an empty interview room. “We’re going to leave you up here for now so you’re ready in position. We don’t know when they’re coming, but we’re assuming at night. The effects of the Machine should keep you alert twenty-four/seven.” Brendon said. Mark could only agree with that. He was finding it hard to sleep. Possibly getting a fractured half an hour a night. “You’ve got a radio so we can tell you when they’re coming. And this.” Brendon pulled out a player and a dictaphone. Mark frowned at it.

“What is that?”

“We’re using a similar technique to when we were trying to get you to talk.” Brendon explained. “From what you’ve told us, he’ll probably react to hearing you in pain, so…” Brendon pressed play and Mark’s scream of pain emitted from the small device. Mark pressed stop. “The player is to make it louder, so it can be heard downstairs.” Brendon said. Mark just looked out at the room.

“If this is a rescue mission then he won’t come up alone. I’ll be the sole purpose.” Mark said, convinced that was what this was. Because Fernando had promised. Fernando would come on his own if it meant rescuing Mark. Brendon was not going to tell him he was completely wrong.

“Then find a way to get him alone.” Brendon said, placing his Elite tacking device on the desk. Mark looked down at it. “This is so you’ll be able to tell where they are.” Brendon said before heading out of the room. “Any questions?”

“Nope. All clear, mate.” Mark said, pulling at the tight sleeve of his shirt. Brendon nodded.

“See you later.” And with that the door was closed. Mark sat down and picked up the dictaphone, listening to everything it had to play.

Yeah, Fernando would fall for that very easily.

\- -

Mark had got the call. He had set up the dictaphone and player. Pressed play when the dots were close to him. Thrown a few things around, dropped himself to the floor to add to the realism of it all and now he was waiting. He knew Fernando had come up, potentially alone, because Jenson had called for him. Mark had one hand on his chin, the other holding his other arm. He had pulled a small tear in each sleeve just to feel like he could move. It had been highly effective and relieving. But right now he cared about nothing but seeing Fernando’s face.

The sudden abruptness of the door opening signaled Fernando’s appearance. Mark’s breath caught in his throat as he lent closer to the mirror, watching the sleek form of his lover enter the room, gun poised. It took Fernando a moment to realise that there was no Mark, that it was just the dictaphone in the centre of the room. Mark was unsurprised when Fernando threw the device to the floor. He held his back to the mirror and Mark wanted more than anything for Fernando to turn around. He could only really tell it was Fernando because of the red sash on his shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, Mark pressed his finger on the intercom button and spoke to Fernando for the first time in what felt like years.

\- - - - - - - - -

“So they put you in that room to find Fernando?” Valtteri asked as Mark finished talking. “You’d been in their three days,”

“Something like that.” Mark nodded.

“And what were you to do with him once you’d got him?” Pastor asked.

“They didn’t give me a brief. I thought it was a rescue mission.” Mark half-lied.

“Sebastian believed you had killed him. Once back, he refused to do anything until we went back to retrieve Fernando’s body and kill you. Why would you have killed him if you thought it was a rescue mission?”

“I didn’t kill him.” Mark said. “Fernando was trying to get me back to the group when they attacked us, the P-Orsche agents. I tried to keep him safe but there were too many of them. I just wanted to get him to somewhere safe.” Mark lied effectively. Neither Pastor nor Valtteri questioned the legitimacy of his story, believing him to be under the influence of truth serum.

“And once we had evacuated, believing Fernando was dead, what did you do?”

“I saved him.”

\- - - - - - - - -

Mark clutched Fernando closer to him. It was too much like that vision after the mind room. Too much like it. But this time it was his fault. He had done this to Fernando. The Spaniard’s weak breath was stuttering across his cheek as Mark closed his eyes, willing him to live. The P-Orsche LMP-1 Specials filtered into the room, moving swiftly towards Mark. Neel was first to pull of his balaclava.

“Fucking hell, Mark.” Neel chastened, stepping over the frame that used to hold the mirror. Mark watched as Neel’s hands danced across Fernando’s body, checking for signs of life. “He’s still alive.” Neel confirmed.

“Not for long…” Timo said as the other’s approached the frame. Mark looked to Neel.

“You can fix him, right? Just like you did to me. He’ll be ok, yes?” Mark pleaded, not caring how many tears were spilling down his face.

“Yes… It might take some time but yes. We’ve got to get him out of here.” Neel said, getting to his feet. Mark nodded, moving to scoop Fernando into his arms, the cut on his hand already half healed.

“Take that glass out.” Nick growled, pointing his gun at Mark. Mark frowned at him.

“It’ll kill him.”

“Right.” Nick nodded. Mark shook his head.

“No. No way. I’m not killing him.”

“You pretty much already have, Mark.” Romain shrugged. Mark ignored them all, lifting Fernando into his arms.

“Which way?” Mark asked Neel. Timo lead the way as Brendon took the radio from Fernando’s pocket, inserting it in one of his ears.

“Have they left?” Neel asked as they descended a secret flight of stairs to the medical centre. Brendon nodded, pressing Fernando’s radio to his ear.

“Yeah… Whoever Agent One is is really flying at you, Mark.” Brendon commented. Mark didn’t care. Seb could hate him all he wanted, Mark was going to do everything to save Fernando. They burst into a vacant OR and Mark laid Fernando gently on the table. As Neel and Timo started moving around the others left the room. Mark stood firmly where he was.

“I’m going to need you to leave, Mark.” Neel said as Timo rigged Fernando to a life machine. Mark shook his head.

“No way.”

“He’ll be fine, Mark, he’s in good hands now.” Timo said, placing an IV in Fernando’s hand.

“I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave him.” Mark said defiantly. “Give me something to do.”

“You’ve got no medical training, Mark. Not on our stuff anyway. There’s nothing you can-”

“-I DID THIS TO HIM! I WILL NOT LEAVE HIM!” Mark hollered, startling both men. Neel took Mark’s arm and began forcing him out of the room.

“I’m sorry!” Neel yelled, slamming the door in Mark’s face. Mark pulled desperately at the door handle but the only effect it had was bending the weak metal out of shape. He rushed to the side of the room, pressing himself up against the observatory glass as the sobs wracked through his body.

“Hurts, doesn’t it.” A voice said beside him. Mark turned to see Nick standing with his gun held loosely in his hand. “At least you’ve got a chance.” He muttered darkly before disappearing from sight. Mark turned his full attention to Fernando, trying to ignore the muffled frantic beeping he could hear.

\- -

It had been a couple of days since Fernando had been moved to intensive care. Neel and Timo had explained everything they were doing and Mark spend most of his time at Fernando’s bedside, talking to him and trying to ignore the pipe that was sticking out of his mouth to keep him breathing. Mark had effectively killed Fernando and it was a credit to the work of the P-Orsche medical team that he was still alive. Mark would be eternally grateful to them.

He pressed a kiss to Fernando’s forehead before leaving the room. He was initially looking for Timo or Neel, trying to find out how long it would be until Fernando was conscious again. Hearing muffled, angry voices Mark stopped, pressing himself to the wall and listening carefully.

“… Be patient, Nick.” Fritz was saying in a stressed tone.

“I’ve been patient enough, Fritz. How long are we going to let Webber pretend this is how it’s going to be?”

“Please, Nick, I’m working on it.”

“We should have killed him there and then! Webber had already done most of the job!” Nick snarled.

“I know you want you’re revenge-”

“-Isn’t that the only reason we got Webber to capture him?”

“Yes, Nick, but-”

“-Right.” Nick spat. Mark pushed himself closer to the wall as the footsteps got closer. He couldn’t believe it. They were going to kill Fernando?

“You have to wait.”

“I’m not going to let you overdose him or something merciful like that. I want to shot him, right between the eyes. Or through his temple. Then he’ll know what it feels like.” Nick spat.

“Nick I have a meeting with Bernie right now. He’s not happy.”

“He got his machine, didn’t he?”

“But he lost an agent. He’s not happy we have them both.” Fritz sighed. “We’ll talk about this later. I’ve got to go.” Mark dashed back to Fernando, taking a silent oath never to leave his side again. They weren’t going to kill him. Mark wouldn’t let them. As Timo walked in with a vile and a syringe Mark tensed. He gripped Fernando’s hand tightly.

“What are you doing?” Mark shot, causing Timo to freeze. Timo frowned at Mark.

“I’m giving him some anti-biotics for the pain.” Timo said calmly.

“What pain?”

“He’s due to wake up soon. When he does he’ll probably be in pain but we’ll make sure he’s alright.” Timo smiled with a nod.

“I want to be here when he does.”

“Of course.”

“When were you going to tell me you’re planning on killing him?” Mark spat sharply, brushing Fernando’s hair out of his eyes. Timo froze again; syringe half way towards Fernando’s arm.

“I’m sorry?”

“I know your plan, Ok. I’m here to tell you I won’t let it happen.”

“That’s good to know, Mark.” Timo nodded, pushing the fluid into Fernando’s arm. He wasn’t going to mention the piece of glass they had left inside Fernando, a slow and painful way to let the Spaniard die. It could happen days or weeks or minutes down the line. But Mark wasn’t going to be told any of that.

When the Spaniard’s hand tightened around Mark’s it was a reassuring sign for the Australian.

\- - - - - - - - -

“That’s why it was easier to get to me. They were done with me. They wanted Fernando.” Mark finished. Pastor nodded.

“But you lead us to Fernando? You lead the rescue team to him?”

“I wasn’t going to leave him behind. After everything they’d done to me for information.” Mark shook his head. It was something he wouldn’t let happen. That’s why he had taken them straight to Fernando. He was more worried Nick would kill Fernando in the process of their escape. But Fernando had been completely unconscious and Mark had had to carry him over his shoulder. The steroids had helped with that.

“At any point did you wish to sign onto the P-Orsche Operation?” Valtteri asked. Mark shook his head.

 _Yes_. “No. My allegiance is with the Elite.”

“Good!” The door opened and General Ecclestone walked in. “Thank you, boys. I would appreciate a little chat with Agent Two alone if you don’t mind.” Ecclestone smiled. Valtteri and Pastor both nodded, getting to their feet.

“We’ll analyze all this and get back to you, Sir.” Valtteri said, picking up the dictaphone.

“Wonderful.” Ecclestone said. They both filed from the room as Ecclestone sat down. “Now, I know you haven’t been one hundred per cent truthful, Mr Webber.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“-We’re alone now, boy. No need to act macho.” Ecclestone sighed. “Especially if you want to see your _friend_ again.” Mark just nodded, waiting for Ecclestone to speak. “Fritz is not happy with you. Only you were supposed to come back with the rescue team. But I knew I was wise to trust you to get Agent Fourteen back in one piece.” Ecclestone smiled.

“So Fritz wants me back.” Mark deduced. Ecclestone stood.

“Oh yes.” He nodded. “But I have no intentions of doing such things.”

“I’m sorry?” Mark asked, shocked.

“You are a successful candidate of the Machine, Mark. There is no way I am handing you back to Fritz.”

“But he-”

“-I am a man of business, Mark. I want the best. You, currently, are the best.” Mark saw right through his transparent words.

“You’re just saying this to make me feel better. You don’t want me going back and you know, if I had to choose, I’d go back.”

“And leave Fernando here?” Ecclestone shot at him. Mark swallowed, sitting back. “Your allegiance is here, Webber, but it’s not to me.” Ecclestone said, sitting down again. “And whilst that boy stays so do you.”

“I don’t-”

“-Don’t insult me by pretending I’m naïve. I know what you two have. I’ve only let it go on so long because it has proven valuable.” Ecclestone said.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Mark said calmly.

“Whatever Fritz told you about the Elite, forget it. If you ever want to be with him again you’ll forget everything they told you about me and how I run this Elite. You do that for me and I’ll let this carry on.” Mark didn’t really have a choice.

“You’ll let me go now?”

“No, he can come to you. Right now you’re still contaminated. We have to let the smaller Elites play out their games or they’ll just feel useless.” Ecclestone said, rising. Mark looked up at him. “You’ll need to complete the two weeks in confinement, throughout which Agent Fourteen will be allowed to visit you as often as he wishes, and you will have to keep your mouth shut about everything you learnt and forget it. Or I will repay Fritz.” Ecclestone said, holding out his hand. “Do I have your word?” Mark took his hand.

“You’ve got my word.” Ecclestone shook his hand with a sly smile.

“It’s sweet, this love you have for him. How you’d do anything to protect him. And how you love him unconditionally without knowing if he would do the same.” Ecclestone grinned. Mark blinked at him. He knew Bernie was trying to set doubt in his mind. “I’ll tell him he can come in.” Ecclestone nodded. “No one is in there, so you know. You’ve got five minutes.”

The door almost ricocheted open as Fernando bound into the room, freezing only momentarily to take Mark in. He threw his arms around the Australian’s neck, pulling him close. Mark tried to reciprocate but his hands were still chained to the desk. Fernando lent back, checking Mark over with his hands until they came to settle on his cheeks. Mark could see the tears in Fernando’s eyes and wanted more than anything to brush them away but he still couldn’t reach. Fernando pressed his lips to Mark’s hungrily.

“Are Ok?” Fernando asked desperately between kisses. Mark laughed at him.

“I’m fine, mate.” Mark beamed. Fernando kissed him again, moaning in a frustrated manner at Mark’s inability to pull him closer. “It’s annoying me more than it’s annoying you.” Mark sighed. Fernando held his face in his hands.

“Can you come with me? Or do you have to stay here?” Fernando asked, sitting on Mark’s lap. Mark pecked at his lips.

“I’ve got to go back.” He admitted sadly. Fernando’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“They’ve got to analyze what I said, see if they think it’s the truth.” Mark shrugged.

“But… They give you truth serum. Have to tell the truth.” Fernando protested. Mark rubbed the small of his back.

“It’s protocol, mate.” Mark shrugged.

“Will come everyday to see you.” Fernando promised, stealing Mark’s lips again. Mark let his hands wander over the expanse of Fernando’s body he could reach. It had been too long since he had done this. He revealed in Fernando’s gasped as Mark took hold of him. “Mark…”

“We don’t have enough time, Fernando.” Mark admitted sadly, wanting more than anything to play with Fernando until he screamed. Fernando wiggled his hips, trying to create some friction between him and Mark’s hold on him.

“Por favor…” Fernando muttered, knowing how much Mark melted when he spoke his native language. Mark let his words roll over him, forcing himself not to succumb and pleasure Fernando. They really didn’t have enough time.

“Fernando!” Mark hissed as Fernando emulated his hold. It was too much. “We don’t-”

“-Want you…” Fernando purred in his ear, playing his thumb through his slit. Mark’s back arched into him. His eyes flashed with lust.

“No time, Fernando…” Mark breathed, trying to hold onto himself. Fernando was teasing him perfectly, making him squirm. Fernando kissed delicately on Mark’s lips, accepting the urgency as the Australian fell apart to his touch. The click of the door saw Mark slumping in his chair, panting, as Fernando perched on the desk, clutching his hands over his crotch. Fernando stood to follow wherever they were taking Mark but Horner shook his head.

“Valtteri wants a word with you.” Horner said, moving Mark from the room. Fernando frowned.

“Me?”

“Yeah. Stay here.” Horner shot. Fernando got one last glimpse of Mark before the door was slammed in his face. Not caring how long he had, Fernando pushed himself into the corner next to the mirror, so he couldn’t be seen, and pushed his hand down the front of his underwear, biting his lip tightly as he played himself, pretending it was Mark.


	8. No One is Prepared When It Happens, But When it Happens it Can Set You Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a fire inside of this heart in a riot about to explode in the flames,   
>  Where is your God? Where is your God? Where is your God?

“Hey, Mark.” Mark looked up at the mirrored window and smiled. He’d been in here four days and it really seemed like Ecclestone was going back on his word. But Fernando was here. He could hear the smile in his voice. Mark stood from the bed, trying to decide whether or not to move closer to the window or stay where he was. He fidgeted with his hands for a moment until Fernando’s gently laugh filtered through the intercom. It made Mark blush, dropping his hands. He decided on settling for the seat behind the desk but as soon as he had taken it he felt too formal.

“Are you alone?” Mark asked, his voice a little strained from not being used. The last time he had been spoken to was a couple of days ago when Jenson had arrived and explained where Valtteri and Pastor were in terms of letting him out of this shithole. Mark hadn’t said anything, but he knew he only had a fortnight in here. If he stuck to Ecclestone’s terms Ecclestone would stick to his. That was the deal. He just had to keep his mouth shut to Fernando. But that was going to be easy, right?

“No…” Fernando admitted. Mark frowned. That wasn’t how this worked.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, Andrea is here… And General Ecclestone.” Fernando said, the worry in his voice a little clearer. Mark sat up straighter.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Mark.” General Ecclestone’s voice filtered over Fernando’s. Mark’s jaw locked. He didn’t want to talk to Ecclestone. He wanted to talk to Fernando. Who knew when that would happen again? “I just wanted to make sure you remembered our conversation.”

“Yes. I remember.” Mark said in a bored tone. Ecclestone’s laugh echoed through the room making Mark shudder uncomfortably.

“Just remember I don’t miss much, Agent Two.” Ecclestone smirked. Mark picked up the hidden message. The fact that he was probably constantly under observation. Or that any conversations he had over intercom would be heard. Any conversations with Fernando.

“Of course not, Sir.” Mark said, praying Fernando’s voice would be the next he heard. It was not.

“You sound slightly parched, Agent Two…” Ecclestone commented. “We can’t have you dehydrated.”

“I’m-” Mark had started to say ‘I’m alright’ but the door that was concealed into the wall slid open and spread dim light into the room. Mark squinted over as someone walked in but as the door snapped shut Mark’s eyes adjusted and he took in the new person in the room. He beamed brightly. Fernando blushed a little under his joy as he set the jug of water on the table.

“I don’t break my word, Agent Two. Agent Stella is here.” Ecclestone said just before the red light above the window switched off. But Mark was still looking at Fernando, over the moon he was actually here. Fernando stood, slightly awkwardly, as Mark pushed his chair back, rising to his feet. The legs scrapped against the tiled floor making a horrid squeaking sound but Fernando didn’t even flinch. He was watching Mark, waiting for what he was about to do. Mark moved forwards until he was standing in front of him, still smiling down into Fernando’s eyes. Fernando couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Hi.” Mark smirked. Fernando blushed.

“Hello.” Fernando barely realised Mark had moved, just feeling his tight arms around him everything felt normal again. Felt right. Fernando sighed in a relaxed manner, gripping tightly to the back of Mark’s shirt. Mark pulled him closer before leaning back, checking him over, his face, his arms. Mark gingerly touched Fernando’s side and Fernando’s grip on his arm tightened. Mark frowned.

“That still hurt?” Mark asked, voice full of concern. Fernando smiled at him, his hand gently touching his cheek.

“A little. Is nearly finished healing.” Fernando explained. Mark nodded, taking Fernando’s hand from his cheek. Fernando panicked, trying to move it back.

“Fernando-”

“-Mark, please…” Fernando whispered, tears springing in his eyes. Mark was heartbroken. He wanted nothing more than to hold Fernando as close as humanly possible but they couldn’t. They were under observation. And even though Mark knew Ecclestone knew about them no one else did. And to everyone else their love was still a violation of the rules. Mark pulled Fernando close to him once more and Fernando curled into his chest, his grip tight enough in Mark’s shirt to rip it.

“Come on. Let’s get you a drink.” Mark rubbed across Fernando’s back soothingly before seating him on the edge of the bed. Fernando watched Mark as he moved around the room, pouring some water noisily into the plastic cup Fernando had provided. It was only now Fernando had the chance to take in the physical changed in Mark. His arms were the biggest change. They were much more toned. And with more muscle mass. Mark didn’t appear to look like a crazed body builder but it was a noticeable difference. But he seemed slightly taller too. Thought Fernando could have just been imagining that. The changes didn’t sit well with Fernando though. Only three weeks ago, before any of this madness started, Mark hadn’t looked like this. His once lean figure was now built with hard muscles and firm lines. Fernando instantly blamed the P-Orsche. They had done something to him. It was Fernando’s only explanation. “Here.” Mark said gently, handling Fernando the glass of water. Fernando took a sip, still frowning at Mark. “So what took you so long?” Mark teased.

“Sorry?”

“To come and visit.” Mark added, blushing a little. He hastened to add: “I thought you would want to, you know? I just… It’s not like I was expecting you, but…” Mark scratched the back of his neck. He hoped that wasn’t going against what he said to Ecclestone. Fernando didn’t seem to pick up on his nervousness.

“Got caught up in Elite stuff.” Fernando said, putting the water down. Mark didn’t like the way Fernando was still wincing slightly when he lent on his left side. “Wanted to come down earlier.”

“Uh huh…” Mark nodded, moving Fernando to lie down. Fernando frowned at him as Mark perched on the bed by his hip.

“What are you doing?” Fernando asked, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt. Mark frowned slightly as he lifted Fernando shirt to his ribs, fingers feathering over the white bandage at Fernando’s side.

“I’m checking.” Mark said, eyebrows still knitted together. Fernando shivered slightly in pleasure as Mark pulled back the bandage. He never thought something could be so intimate but he loved the fact it was Mark. Mark was the one looking after him. “Does this still hurt?” Mark asked, looking down at the still open wound. He didn’t understand.

“A little.” Fernando sighed. He forced his eyes to stay open so he could continue to watch Mark.

“Why?” Mark frowned deeper, brushing his fingers across the gauze filling of Fernando’s wound. He was sure it hadn’t been that wide. Deep maybe, but hadn’t P-Orsche set about fixing that? And if they had shouldn’t it be done by now? Mark knew how quick he was at healing ever since he had been at the P-Orsche.

“Was still some glass in it.” Fernando stated calmly, relaxing under Mark’s gentle touch. Mark’s eyes blew wide.

“What?”

“They had to restart the healing. Apparently. Do not quite know, is a little confusing.” Fernando shrugged. Mark re-covered the wound, wrapping the dressing securely back in place. He sat Fernando up.

“Tell me what they told you.” Mark requested. Fernando pushed his fingers into the hair at the nape of Mark’s neck but the Australian moved his hand away. Fernando’s chest fell. “Hey, you know we can’t do that now.” Mark said softly, leaving Fernando’s hand in his lap as he drew patterns across the back of it. Fernando sighed sadly.

“Missed you.”

“I missed you too, mate. But right time.” Mark stressed. It was so odd having things this way round. Usually it was Fernando stressing how they had to be careful. “Tell me about your side?”

“They say that they had to reopen the wound in surgery to get the glass out. That is why it is so big. Then it kept bleeding because of some medication the P-Orsche must have put me on. Maybe you know a little bit more about that…” Fernando looked at Mark hopefully but he just shrugged. “Had to keep me on a blood replenishment machine so I didn’t bleed out.” Mark gripped Fernando’s hand tightly at the thought. No. Not after what they had been through. He was never letting Fernando go again. Or leaving him. “They managed to get rid of the P-Orsche medication somehow so now am on Elite only treatment. Is working better.” Fernando nodded. Mark echoed his movement.

“So… How long have I put you out of action?” Mark asked, looking only at Fernando’s hand. Fernando cupped his cheek, forcing him to look up at him.

“Hey-”

“-Don’t even think about telling me this isn’t my fault, Fer. It is.” Mark said sternly. Fernando just sighed, not even bothering to get into the battle he will probably loose.

“Two more weeks to be sure. Though with the threat hanging around they may have to risk it.” Fernando shrugged. Mark frowned. His blood ran cold. He didn’t like what Fernando was implying.

“Threat?” Mark asked. Fernando passed a glance at the mirror.

“Is why have not be able to get here before now…” Fernando muttered. Mark held his hand tighter.

“What are you talking about?” Mark demanded, eyes desperate. Fernando looked at him sadly.

“Do not want to upset you…”

“Then explain.” Fernando sighed before dropping his head.

“Ecclestone has issued a warning of a potential attack.” Fernando started. Mark blinked at him. “Apparently the P-Orsche are not happy with our rescue mission… Are planning on retaliating.” Mark’s world stopped. Because he understood how the P-Orsche worked. And they would most definitely target Fernando.

\- - -

“Hey, Mark.” Fernando smiled, placing Mark’s dinner on the desk as the door shut behind him. Mark swung his legs off the bed, beaming at Fernando as the Spaniard sat down in the chair. It had been a couple of days since the first time Fernando had been in to visit him. It seemed Fernando was making it a habit of coming down to give Mark his dinner in the evenings. He would normally hang around for a couple of hours until someone new started their observation shift.

“How are you?” Mark asked pleasantly, dragging the desk towards him. He started into his chicken roast as he waited for Fernando to speak.

“Am Ok.” Fernando nodded. “Had another debrief today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup. About what I have to do if there is a sudden attack.” Fernando sounded bored as he rolled his eyes. Mark swallowed forcedly.

“That still on the cards?”

“Guess so. Otherwise this preparation is all very pointless.”

“I see…” Mark ate in silence for a while as Fernando relaxed into his chair, his eyes never leaving Mark’s face. “That’s a little creepy.” Mark smirked as Fernando blushed, looking at the floor.

“Sorry…”

“It’s alright, mate.” Mark finished his food, resting his hands under his chin as he finished his last mouthful. “So who do we have today?” Mark asked, inclining his head towards the mirror.

“Daniel.” Fernando yawned.

“Hi, Mark.” Daniel’s cheery voice sounded through the intercom. Mark sent him a wave before turning back to Fernando.

“And how’s your side?” Mark patted the bed beside him and Fernando pushed himself out of the chair, falling onto it facing the ceiling. Mark lifted his shirt and swallowed dryly. He could see the small stain of blood on the white dressing.

“Is due to be changed later.” Fernando commented, reading the concern in Mark’s eyes. Mark just nodded.

“Can I…?”

“Go for it.” Fernando sighed, relaxing back on Mark’s bed. Mark took a deep breath before unwrapping Fernando’s bandage. The first thing he noticed was the smear of orange ointment that he was sure Fernando had mentioned was supposed to stop it bleeding out. He examined the crater in Fernando’s skin gingerly, noting exactly where the blood was coming from; the original cut Mark had created. Mark wanted to know exactly what the P-Orsche had done to him. He should have paid more attention. Mark shook his head.

“This isn’t right.” Mark exasperated. Fernando frowned slightly at him.

“Is healing.”

“It’s still bleeding. That’s not right, Fer.”

“Do not understand.” Fernando shrugged, dropping his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes. Mark redid the bandaged on his side.

“How long has it been bleeding?”

“Do not know. SAU have my records.”

“I want to see them.” Mark said sternly. Fernando smiled at him sadly.

“Am not sure you have that right…”

“Don’t have the right?” Mark scoffed. “Fernando, I’m your fucking b-” Mark stopped talking as he realised where they were. He sent a look over his shoulder at the mirror that Daniel was sitting behind. “I’m your friend…” Mark muttered sadly, running a hand through his hair. Fernando sat up, pulling Mark into a tight embrace.

“You know you are much more than this.” Fernando whispered in Mark’s ear, holding him closer. Mark rested his forehead briefly on Fernando’s as he lent away.

“I know…” Mark breathed. With his back towards Daniel he risked pressing his lips to Fernando’s. Fernando responded enthusiastically, threading his fingers into Mark’s hair and desperately trying to pull the Australian closer. It had been too long and Fernando’s body buzzed in anticipation of being with Mark again. But the moment was short lived. “Te amo…” Mark muttered, brushing the hair out of Fernando’s face. Fernando curled into his lap as Mark’s fingers found the point on his left wrist. The point that used to bare their scar.

“Te amo…” Fernando returned, his eyes dropping shut as he, finally, felt content in the first time in about three weeks. Mark pulled him closer. He didn’t really know why he was being so secretive about their relationship anymore. It’s not like Bernie didn’t know…

\- - -

“Hey, Mark?” Jenson asked the day he was observing at the time Fernando visited Mark. Mark looked up from the slumbering form of Fernando and towards the mirror. He had known Fernando had been tired, he just hadn’t realised he was that tired. Fernando had fallen asleep as Mark was checking his side, which was looking a little better. When Mark had gone to move to the chair and leave him some space Fernando had grabbed his wrist and not stopped pulling on Mark until he was wrapped in the Australian’s embrace.

“Yes, Jense.” Mark nodded. There was a moment of silence.

“Why did you do it?” Jenson asked in a confused tone. It made Mark frown.

“Do what?”

“Almost kill him.” Jenson swallowed dryly. Mark looked down at Fernando’s peaceful face. But Ecclestone’s words echoed through his head. _You_ _will have to keep your mouth shut about everything you learnt and forget it. Or I will repay Fritz._

“It’s complicated.” Mark answered, still looking at Fernando.

“Try me.” Jenson shrugged. Mark sighed.

“You don’t know.” Mark said to the mirror. “You don’t know what I know. You don’t understand what I understand… If you did you wouldn’t asked that question. You’d just know the answer.”

“Then explain. Tell me what I don’t know.” Jenson urged.

“I can’t, mate.” A long silence followed that made Mark look up just to check the red light was still on.

“Have you told Fernando?” Jenson asked, a hint of jealousy in his voice. Mark smirked, shaking his head.

“No, Jense.”

“Have you told _them_?” Mark knew Jenson was implying the bosses of this organization. Mark just scoffed.

“They already know.” Mark bit sourly. His theory that all of the Majors knew, definitely. The system wouldn’t work if they didn’t know. But as for the Lieutenants Mark wasn’t so sure. It was possible but it Mark’s opinion unlikely.

“You two are so close, though. I can’t even imagine you having the power to hurt him like that….” Jenson mused in a gob smacked tone. Mark instinctively pulled Fernando closer; weary that he would fade away.

“Did you see?” Mark asked, worry in his voice. “Did you see what I did to him?”

“No. But Seb explained it to be quite bad…” Jenson muttered quietly. Mark just nodded his head.

“Can you promise me something?” Mark asked after a few minutes of silence. The red light flicked back on just before Jenson’s voice was heard.

“Depends what it is.”

“If something happens to me, or for some reason I go or am forced to leave, will you promise to take care of Fernando?”

“You’re not planning on going anywhere, right?” Jenson half joked. Mark smiled down at Fernando.

“No, course not.” _I couldn’t leave him here…_

“Then why do you need me there for him?”

“Just in case, mate.” Mark said, staring potently at the mirror. “I need to know someone has got his back in case I can’t catch it. Just put my mind at ease.”

“Alright, my word.” Jenson said, his voice still slightly dubious.

“Promise?”

“I promise, Mark.” Jenson said seriously. Mark nodded looking back down at Fernando. He didn’t want Jenson’s word because when Mark gave his word it meant jack-shit.

\- - -

“Hey, Mark.” Fernando smiled through the intercom. He just needed to let Mark know he was here before he asked Andrea. Mark had been back in here about a week and a half. Andrea stood behind Fernando with his arms folded, waiting patiently.

“Fernando what is going on?” Andrea asked again. Fernando waited to see Mark wave towards the mirror.

“Will be in in one second.” Fernando said and Mark just nodded, lying back in a comfortable position on the bed. Fernando let go of the microphone button and turned to Andrea. “Can you leave us alone?” Andrea blinked at Fernando like he was mad.

“You know I cannot do this.” Andrea said. Fernando caught his shoulder.

“Please. Just for twenty minutes.”

“Fernando-!”

“-Andrea, please. Is just Mark. You hear what Valtteri says earlier. Please, am fine. Am safe. Is just twenty minutes.”

“If anyone finds out you are in there alone-”

“Will not.” Fernando grasped onto Andrea’s thin string of hope. Andrea held Fernando intense gaze for a few minutes before sighing and conceiving to his Agent’s wishes.

“Fine. But only twenty-”

“-Thank you.” Fernando beamed, pulling Andrea into a brief hug. Fernando waited for the Italian to ascend the stairs before moving down the little corridor to the entrance of Mark’s room. Mark looked up at him as he walked in but barely got the chance to speak or move as Fernando climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and crashed their lips together. Fernando fought to dominate Mark’s mouth but Mark got a grip on his shoulders, pushing Fernando up slightly. His eyes were blown wide. Fernando was being so reckless.

“Fernando, we’re not alone.” Mark reminded, slightly out of breath. Fernando just shook his head.

“Are. Ask Andrea to go. Have twenty minutes.” Fernando returned to trying to kiss Mark but Mark just held him back.

“Wait, what?”

“Mark has been too long!” Fernando whined, slipping his hand down the front of Mark’s trousers. Mark tried to stop him but by time he had a grip on Fernando’s wrist Fernando already had him firmly in his hand. “Miss you, need you.” Fernando assured, kissing delicately across Mark’s deep jawline. Mark’s hands bunched into the back of Fernando’s shirt.

“Please, Fernando, I’ll be out soon…” Mark muttered, trying to remember how much of a bad idea this was.

“Valtteri says you are all clear when I ask him earlier. Says you will be out in a couple of days.”

“Right, then let’s wait. Then we have all the time we want.”

“No, Mark. Have been waiting long enough. Though you were dead… Want to be with you. Please.” Mark sighed in a defeated manner as Fernando connected their lips again. Mark moaned loudly against the roof of Fernando’s mouth as Fernando began fisting him quickly. Mark’s hips bucked wildly into Fernando’s hold as the persistent pace continued. His moans filled the large echoing room as Fernando slid down his body and took him completely in his mouth. Mark pulled tightly on Fernando’s hair, trying desperately to hold onto himself as Fernando hollowed his cheeks, making him forget where he was and why they shouldn’t be doing this right now. Mark came heavily in Fernando’s mouth as Fernando’s nose tickled through the hair at the base of his cock.

Panting heavily there was new heat in Fernando’s eyes as Mark pulled him up his body, frantically rolling him over as he messily devoured Fernando’s mouth. Fernando dug his nails into Mark’s back, lifting his shirt to feel the warm skin of the Australian, as Mark bit and sucked bruises into Fernando’s skin. Marking and claiming him as his own. Fernando shoved on Mark’s shoulder’s, pushing his lover down his body as he begged for Mark to take him into his mouth. Pre-cum was leaking from his tip and Mark licked it clean slowly, curling Fernando’s toes and making him cry out to the room, begging Mark in Spanish. Having just watched, made and tasted Mark cum Fernando was already right on the edge. After a few slow teasing swallows Fernando was fucking Mark’s mouth, moaning loudly as he felt complete, his lover safely in his arms. Still one hundred per cent his.

Andrea had frozen by the door. He didn’t know what to do. Had he have known that was why Fernando wanted him gone… Andrea shook his head. He slammed the door on the image of his Agent being blown by Mark with wide eyes, still trying to process it all. How long had this been going on? Fernando actions in the past three weeks suddenly made so much more sense. Why Fernando so desolate after they had initially thought they had lost Mark? And why Fernando so desperate to get any information Ecclestone had on the Australian’s whereabouts? Why he had been so determined to get a rescue party together? Why he had stolen Mark’s hoodie on the day of that meeting? It all made sense. Andrea had construed it as a close friendship.

But now he knew it was more. So much more.

Fernando came hard in Mark’s mouth, almost causing the Australian to choke on his load. Rapidly their lips were linked again. Desperate panting only interrupted by messy kisses. Mark kissed each bruise on Fernando’s neck, nipping the skin gently with his teeth to hear Fernando gasp. A sound that made his spent cock stir again.

“More…” Fernando sighed, moving Mark’s hand towards his entrance. Mark snatched it back, kissing Fernando’s panting lips.

“When I’m out of here, Fernando, you can have me where ever you want me. Promise.” Mark breathed across Fernando’s navel, lifting his shirt to place chaste kisses on the tanned skin.

“Where… Ever…” Fernando sighed, sated.

“I’ll be one hundred per cent yours, mate.” Mark kissed the tip of his nose, brushing the hair from his face.

“Want to stay…” Fernando exhaled, curling into Mark’s embrace. Mark laughed before sitting himself up. Fernando pouted.

“Andrea will be back soon.”

“Do not care.”

“You will mate.” Mark nudge Fernando’s shoulder with his, causing the Spaniard to groan again.

“Want you.”

“You can have me when I’m out of here.” Mark dipped forwards to steal a chaste kiss but Fernando took the opportunity to wrap his arms round Mark’s neck, pulling him closer and stealing his mouth. Mark had no complaints until they had to break apart, gasping for air.

“Te amo.” Fernando pecked onto Mark’s cheek.

“I love you so much more, buddy.” Mark grinned in a cheesy manner. Fernando smirked back, running a hand through his hair as he climbed from the bed and fell into the chair. He looked much more relaxed than Mark had seen him in here. Mark cupped his cheek softly.

“Not possible.” Fernando exhaled. Mark stole one more kiss before moving back to the bed to make it. Fernando happily sat admiring his arse whilst he worked. He was about to pass a comment about it when the red light appeared above the mirror.

“Just thought I would let you know I was back.” Andrea’s voice echoed through the room.

“Thank you, Andrea.” Fernando called, thanking him for more than the announcement. From the little room Andrea had seen the whole thing. The whole aftermath encounter. He decided to keep his mouth shut. If this got out it would be bad news for the two of them and Mark was already on probation.

\- - -

“Hey, Mark.” Nico Hulkenberg said calmly, appearing a few mornings after Fernando had come in and pinned him to the bed. Mark yawned, sitting up slowly as the morning sun poured through the door Nico had entered from. Funny thing was the door wasn’t being closed. Mark revelled in the rare view of the morning sun, waiting for the moment it was snatched away from him. “Just came to give you a check up.”

“Check up?” Mark queried as Nico placed a small box beside him. Nico smiled as he pulled out an Ophthalmoscope. He moved the device to his left eye.

“Just need to check you’ve got no more foreign…” Nico switched eyes, shining the light brightly into Mark’s pupil. “Antibodies in your system. Fernando had a few we couldn’t work with so we’ve got a counter-drug that will overpower them.”

“Great.” Mark said in an even tone. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about that.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. Great. I’m fine.” Mark shrugged. Nico put the Ophthalmoscope back in his little box, smiling gently.

“That’s good to hear.” Nico filled a syringe with a sky blue liquid. Mark eyed it suspiciously. “This might hurt a little.”

“I’m used to it.” Mark muttered as he pulled up his sleeve. Nico pressed the sharp point of the needle into Mark’s tearable skin and filled his vein with the liquid. Mark felt a surreal urge to pin Nico against the wall and piece the needle into his throat, tearing down his trachea and leaving him to bleed to death on the shinny tiled floor. But he didn’t move. He forced himself to sit very still, wincing only when the sharp metal point was removed from his skin.

“There.” Nico smiled, pulling off his plastic gloves and dropping them into the box. “I assume you know you’ve getting out of here today.”

“I didn’t know that was today.” Mark said, checking his arm at the incision point. But the small prick point had already healed, leaving a tiny drop of blood in its place. Nico wiped it away with an anti-biotic wipe.

“Yeah, Valtteri and Pastor will be down in a sec.” Nico smiled.

“Should I get dress up for the occasion?” Mark asked sarcastically. Nico just laughed at him as he left the room. Mark was slightly stunned that the door was still open. If he just ran out of here would anyone know? He walked over to the doorframe, allowing the sun to soak onto his body. It felt like an eternity since he has seen the sun. It was warming, refreshing. Mark closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of warmth, letting memories replay in his head of sunny days on the beach with Fernando. Whether they were just dreams or real memories Mark would never know. He just liked them. Like the way he remembered the sun dancing off Fernando’s skin, the low position of Fernando’s shorts as he sauntered into the sea. The sparkle in his hair as the sun danced off the wet strands or the cool wash of the waves as they held each other close in a crystal blue lagoon.

Mark never wanted to know if they were real or not. They could always be treated like memories then.

“Hello, Mark.” Mark spun around to see Valtteri and Pastor entering from the opposite side of the room. He frowned at them, wondering exactly how many doors this place had. “Why don’t you take a seat?” Mark reluctantly moved over to them, turning his back on the sun.

“After analysis your interrogation, we have decided you are free to return to your Elite status.” Pastor stated gruffly, handing Mark a file. The dark purple _Agent Two_ was stamped at the top like it always was.

“Should I gather all my stuff up?” Mark asked sarcastically. Valtteri sighed.

“This was just a precautionary, Mark. We needed to know the P-Orsche had not corrupted your allegiance to this Elite.” Valtteri explained. Mark’s eyes had locked in on the taser clipped to his belt. If he could get it, maybe by shoving the table into them and sending them back on the floor, he could probably kill them both with one shock. Pin them in place with the table and knock the jar of water onto them. That would potentially cause some deep glass wounds. Then the water would conduct the electricity from the taser that Mark would set to a lethal voltage.

But, again, like the plan with Nico, he had no next step planned.

“Besides, if you knew you were in the right then you had nothing to worry about.” Valtteri finished as Mark drummed his fingers on the table.

“Just not a fan of the solitary confinement, mate. Especially if I’m not guilty.” Mark was getting exceptionally good at the lying thing.

“Oh well, done now.” Valtteri shrugged, handing Mark his Elite Recognition Sanction papers (or ERS papers as they were referred to by the agents) and a fresh uniform. Mark glared at him. That was it? They had held him here for two fucking weeks and all they had was a shrug of the shoulders? The taser plan suddenly became very appetizing.

“Any questions?” Pastor grumbled getting to his feet. Valtteri followed suit.

“Where’s Fernando?” Mark asked bluntly. Pastor frowned but Valtteri gave an expression that showed he was expecting it.

“In the SAU unit.” Valtteri said calmly.

“The medical centre?” Mark frowned. Valtteri nodded. “Why?”

“That is a needs to know basis, Webber.” Pastor barked. “And you do not need to know.” Mark got to his feet.

“We thought you might want to walk back in the sun.” Valtteri indicated to the open door Mark had left. Mark raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re trusting me to walk back on my own?”

“You are an Elite agent, Mark. You can go wherever you want on premises. The rules haven’t changed.” Mark scoffed causing Valtteri to roll his eyes and add: “That much.”

“I just find it funny that a couple of weeks ago you were happy to dunk me in a tank of water and now you’re just letting me go free.” Mark shrugged, throwing his plain ‘prison’ shirt across the room and pulling his Elite shirt on; relieved someone had made the arms bigger for him.

“It was all precautionary, Mark.” Valtteri said again before leading Pastor from the room through the exit they came in. Pastor stopped in the doorframe, glaring back at Mark.

“Just to let you know, Webber, I still do not trust you.” Pastor sneered. Valtteri just walked away. Mark folded his arms. “And when you slip up will be right there to throw you back in here.”

“You have fun waiting.” Mark waved, collecting his things and moving out into the sunshine. He relished the way his eyes had to squint against the intensity. Beaming at the yellow orb in the sky as if it were the first time he had seen it. After stopping briefly in his room to quickly shower and get dressed Mark dashed through the building he knew too well and headed to the SAU base.

He was hit with the clinical whiteness that reminded him blindly of P-Orsche. He slowed his jog down to a walk, not even feeling out of breath, as he moved towards the reception desk. The room swayed a little as flashbacks of those moments in the P-Orsche medical centre flashed in his head. His complete dread that they would do something to Fernando. His confusion when they were demanding information. The mind room.

The two facilities were Worlds apart, although the Elite SAU was much friendlier.

“Can I help you?” Marco Schupbach asked with a smile from behind the desk. Mark forced himself back to the here and now.

“I’m looking for Fernando? I was told he was up here.” Mark said. Marco opened his mouth to speak but Nico Hulkenberg appeared with Esteban following just behind him, deep in conversation. Nico abruptly stopped speaking as he saw Mark, a small smile slipping on his face.

“Good to see you about, Mark.” Nico smiled, shaking Mark’s hand. Nico undid his lab coat as he folded his arms.

“I’m looking for Fe-”

“-Yes, Mark. I think everyone knows why you’re here.” Nico smiled, patting Mark’s shoulder as he carried on down the hallway. Mark followed him.

“Can I-?”

“-No. Not right now.” Nico said, standing outside the room Mark assumed Fernando was in.

“Why is he up here?” Mark asked, peering through the window to see Fernando staring up at the ceiling, looking bored.

“We’re just double checking everything is going to plan with his side.” Nico said as he passed Esteban a chart. Esteban let himself in Fernando’s room quickly. “You wouldn’t happen to know how the P-Orsche were treating him?”

“No, sorry.” Mark said, eyes locked on Fernando as Esteban altered some settings on the machine to his right.

“He won’t be too long.” Nico assured. Mark just nodded.

“I’ll wait.”

“Mark, go back downstairs. Back to your room. I’ll send him your way as soon as we’re done.” Nico said softly. Mark broke his view of Fernando to frown at Nico.

“Why can’t I wait here?” Mark asked. Nico took his arm.

“There have been whispers, Mark. Not good whispers.” Nico muttered, leading him back towards the entrance. Mark continued to frown.

“Huh?”

“People have been… Assuming.”

“Assuming what?”

“That there is something going on between you two.” Nico sighed, stopping by the main desk. Mark scoffed at him, folding his arms.

“That’s ridiculous. We’re just friends. That’s against the Elite rules.” Mark said. Nico nodded.

“I know. But he’s been down in your room everyday. I heard Domenicali had to force him out of the observation room one night.”

“You can’t believe everything you hear, Nico.” Mark laughed. Though part of his brain was trying to work out if that was true.

“Just… Let this all die down a bit. Go back to your room, read over your files. I’ll send him to you when we’re done.” Nico said sympathetically. With one last pat on the shoulder he was gone. Back to Fernando. Mark fought the urge to follow him and turned on his heels moving back towards his room. He wouldn’t fight against Nico. Nico was right. What would Ecclestone do if their relationship got out? One of them would be immediately terminated.

And out of the two of them, termination was most likely to fall on Mark.

-

When the coded knock came Mark had to think about what it meant. He hadn’t heard it in so long. But as he realised what it was he sprung to his feet, scattering the mission debriefs he had been reading across his bed as he dove for the door. He forced himself to take a calming breath before he opened the door and looked down into the face of his lover. Fernando smiled lightly at him as he pushed Mark back into the room, catching the Australian’s collar as he kicked the door shut and brought their lips together. Their kiss was unreserved, fingers curling in hair, hands exploring bodies. Only when Fernando recoiled in pain as Mark caught the bandage on his side did their kiss break apart. Mark cupped Fernando’s cheek.

“Nico said you wouldn’t be long.” Mark said in between the small kisses he was planting all over Fernando’s face. Fernando giggled a little at the ticklish sensation Mark evoked on him. “I’ve been so worried. Are you Ok? Why did you go up there? Is there a-?”

“-Stop, Mark.” Fernando smiled, pushing lightly on Mark’s shoulders. Mark smiled at Fernando as he moved through the room with ease, pushing Mark’s papers into a messy pile and falling onto the bed. Mark lent down so their noses were almost touching.

“I was reading that.” Mark smirked. Fernando matched him with a challenging expression.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm…”

“You say you were worried.” Fernando suddenly said, rolling onto his stomach and frowning. Mark blushed a little.

“Nico said you wouldn’t be long.”

“Then I had to go to debrief and meetings with Red…” Fernando stroked up Mark’s arms. “Sorry.”

“It’s Ok. I understand.” Mark smiled brightly at the normalness of the situation. Fernando being late due to Elite commitments. It could have been two months ago and Mark would have never noticed the difference.

“Nico told me you had come looking for me.” Fernando smiled. Mark kissed his forehead.

“So how about telling me what they did to you?” Mark sighed, dropping the files on the floor as he sat next to Fernando on the bed, offering out his arm. Fernando happily crawled into his embrace, curling close. They both sighed contently, in sync, as they found their usual position.

“They just do a check up, change the dressing and give me more medication.” Fernando yawned.

“And how are you feeling?”

“Tired.” Fernando smirked. Mark poked him.

“Can I look?” Fernando just nodded. He knew that letting Mark undress and dress his wound probably wasn’t the best idea but he loved what it represented. That Mark still cared for him. Mark was shocked when just the original cut remained, Fernando’s skin held together by fourteen white stiches. “What happened?” Mark asked, slightly shocked slightly relieved. Fernando looked down panicked but relaxed when it looked the same as it had earlier.

“SAU and Force have adapted some of the P-Orsche medication they got from me. Works wonders apparently.” Fernando shrugged.

“But you’ve still got this…” Mark ran his finger gently along the cut he had pressed into Fernando’s skin. Fernando watched his face closely.

“They cannot seem to get rid of this. Will probably scar…” There was hope in Fernando’s voice Mark didn’t like. He was replacing their old one. And maybe to Fernando the scars said the same thing, but to Mark it was completely different.

“So this new stuff.” Mark said, redressing Fernando’s wound. “It works well?”

“Yeah, they use me as guinea pig and it has worked for me. The crevice was filled again in about three days. Is the P-Orsche stuff fast?” Fernando asked. But Mark didn’t hear his question.

“They used you as a-” Mark forced himself to bite his tongue but his rage was flaring through him. Because Mark knew how disposable they all were. How they would happily risk a damaged agent because it didn’t matter if the medication backfired; the agent was out of action anyway.

“Ow, Mark.” Fernando complained as Mark’s fingers dug into his wrist. Mark let go of Fernando quickly, turning his back. It would have been easy, being in his room. First he would press into Fernando’s wound, leaving the Spaniard motionless through the pain. He’d take his bedside lamp and use the base to clap the back of Fernando’s head, dizzying Fernando and potentially causing him to loose consciousness. Then he would use the lamp plug to strangle Fernando until his body stopped functioning, watching the life rush out of his bit by bit. But if he were feeling merciful he would use the wire to bound Fernando to his bed, go into his wardrobe and get his ASG Mk23 Special Ops and silencer and press a bullet through his temple. Or between his eyes.

“Mark?” Fernando tentatively placed a hand on Mark’s shoulder, not liking his suddenly tense position. Mark exhaled and opened his eyes, the plan evaporating as quickly as it had appeared. He turned swiftly, capturing Fernando’s lips with his own as he pinned the Spaniard to the bed. It would be so simple. No one would ever know. He could push into Fernando’s trachea until it compressed or snap his ribs down and puncture his lungs or drag his fingers into his hair and crack his neck, breaking it cleanly with a simple twist. Mark frowned, forcing himself onto Fernando more, a deep desperation in the kiss that Fernando could barely comprehend. “Am here, Mark. Am still here…” Fernando panted as Mark dragged his teeth down Fernando’s neck. Mark could push his fingers into that wound on his side and rip it open, watching Fernando bleed all over the dark sheets. Mark audibly growled, annoyed at himself for his thoughts, straddling Fernando’s hips as he sucked desperately at Fernando’s neck. “Mark!” Fernando panted, his fingers clawing into Mark’s hair before pulling at the back of his shirt. It was an intensity Fernando had never faced before. Only when Fernando cried out in pain did Mark taste the blood in his mouth. He rose above Fernando quickly, looking down at where he had bitten into Fernando soft skin. He instantly felt dreadful, climbing off him and grabbing his first aid kit.

“Shit, sorry…” Mark muttered, pressing soft cotton to Fernando’s neck. Fernando’s hand came on top of Mark’s his eyes confused and searching the Australian’s fruitlessly. Mark didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. He stared intently at his hand. “Sorry.”

“Is Ok.” Fernando muttered, still trying to read Mark. Mark gritted his teeth.

“It’s not though, is it.” Mark spat. Fernando sat up as Mark moved back to his first aid kit for a plaster.

“Mark, talk to me.” Fernando said softly. Mark knelt in front of him, focusing on the plaster.

“I can’t loose you, Fernando.” Mark muttered once the plaster was in place. Fernando caught Mark’s face.

“Cannot.”

“But I can. Too easily.” Mark got to his feet, turning his back on Fernando. Fernando ran his hands over Mark’s shoulders.

“Am here, Mark. Right here. Am not going anywhere.” Fernando promised. Mark looked at his hands.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Mark said, more to himself.

“Are not.”

“I am! Look what I just did! And before!” Mark spun on his heels, glaring at Fernando. Fernando swallowed.

“Is in the past.”

“I’ll just hurt you again, Fernando. How many more times before I do something permanent?” Mark gritted. Fernando pulled him close, burying his head in Mark’s torso.

“Would not. You say this. You say you could not hurt me. Like I could not hurt you. Mark I trust you. With my life.” Fernando somehow got Mark to calm down and relax. Somehow managed to get them both dressed for bed and snuggled close under the duvet. Fernando fell asleep almost instantaneously; relaxing into the position he had become most accustomed to. And everything finally fell into place. Everything was right. He was safely tucked in Mark’s arms. Mark was back with him. But Mark knew there was something very wrong. Very wrong indeed. And that’s why he was staring at the ceiling rather than sleeping.

Because all he could think about was different ways he could kill Fernando with the objects in his room. And that really wasn’t a healthy thought.


	9. Hold Me Closer So I Don’t Let Go Of What I Am or What I’m Supposed To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you really want, do you really want me?    
>  Do you really want me dead, or alive to torture for my sins? 

Mark hated this. Hated the fact he could no longer sleep. And it wasn’t due to stress or worry, it was the fucking Machine. He was still having daily sessions with it, just as he was at P-Orsche. Now if he slept at all he was lucky. Apparently now he didn’t need sleep. That was how his insomnia had been explained back at P-Orsche. But right now he would pay a stupid amount of money just to be able to sleep, to pull Fernando closer and leave his conscious mind for a moment. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything that was happening. His sudden thoughts of horrific deaths to his friends, his complete lost of judgement if he got extremely angry.

Not to mention the imminent threat of the P-Orsche attacking.

That had Mark worrying most. He turned over his shoulder to look at Fernando as he perched on the edge of the bed. He knew if the P-Orsche came they would target Fernando. He knew how much Nick still wanted revenge. And he knew how Nick would stop at nothing to get it. Mark lent back and gently brushed his fingers up Fernando’s cheek, dancing them into has hair as he studied his beautiful, peaceful slumbering face. Was that how he would look dead? The thought almost had Mark shaking Fernando awake, desperate to see his eyes, desperate to see his life but he made himself stop. He knew he was being stupid. Instead he lent forwards, placing a soft kiss on Fernando’s forehead. The Spaniard rolled on to his back slightly, humming contently. Mark couldn’t help but smile a little.

But then it happened.

The hand he had in Fernando’s hair suddenly tightened as, in a flash of red vision, Mark hurled Fernando onto the floor. Disorientated from being abruptly woken up, Fernando got tangled in the splayed sheets, grumbling incoherently. Mark caught him by the back of his shirt, throwing him across the room and pinning him to the wall. Fernando’s head caught the corner of the shelf as he was slammed back and, panting for breath and trying to force his voice to work, Fernando looked up into Mark’s eyes with pure terror in his eyes. Mark panted for a moment, watching the trail of blood run down Fernando’s face from his forehead before he punched into Fernando’s side bringing his knee up into Fernando’s gut causing the Spaniard to fall forwards into him, coughing and gasping for air. Fernando’s blood stained onto Mark’s white vest top but Mark didn’t stop to worry about it. He launched Fernando into the bathroom, his body falling back into the bathtub as he fell through the shower curtain, ripping it from its rail and cracking the back of his head on the bath taps. Mark set the water running in the sink, dropping the plug in the plughole, before he grabbed Fernando’s limp body. Smearing blood across the plastic sheet he dragged Fernando up, forcing him face first into the sink.

“Mark?” Fernando soft voice cut through the vivid fantasy and brought Mark crashing back to the here and now. He took in Fernando’s face. Not a scratch on it. He was perfect. But his eyes were concerned and Mark noted his tight grip into Fernando’s hair. He let go, recoiling down the bed. But Fernando followed him, grabbing his wrist. “Hey, hey. Is Ok, Mark. Tell me-”

“-I can’t.” Mark spat, squeezing his eyes shut as he climbed off the bed. Fernando grabbed his shoulders.

“Do not shut me out, Mark. Talk to me.” Fernando pleaded. Mark took a deep breath before pushing Fernando’s hands off his shoulders.

“Go back to sleep, Fernando.” Mark said softly. Not looking back he moved from his room, shutting the door on Fernando. Fernando didn’t get it. Mark was definitely hiding things from him. When Fernando had asked about his physique change Mark had said he was wrong. When he asked Mark to tell him what the P-Orsche had done to him he claimed he couldn’t remember. But Mark was terrible at lying to Fernando. “ _You can tell me anything.”_ Fernando had said. Mark had just walked out on him, claiming he had somewhere else he needed to be. He wouldn’t explain these secret sessions he went to everyday and it was not the first time Fernando had woken due to Mark clamping his hand on a part of him tightly. Fernando just wanted to understand. He was worried. He’d had Mark back for about a week now but something still wasn’t right. They had never kept secrets from each other and now Mark wouldn’t tell him anything.

Mark was sick of not understanding. And he knew this was something to do with P-Orsche or that fucking Machine. That fucking Machine he had to be rigged up to for another hour in four hours time. He had one place he needed to go and he didn’t care what time it was, he wasn’t leaving until he had answers. Mark looked down at his attire, taking in his white vest top, luckily not smeared with Fernando’s blood, and dark sweatpants. Not the best stealth-mode clothes, but it would have to make do.

Why General Ecclestone had a receptionist working at this earlier hour Mark would never understand. He saw her first, moving to the shadows of the room until he could roll over to her desk without her detecting him. He waited until the phone had stopped ringing and been replaced with a cheery rendition of _“Bernie Ecclestone’s office, how can I help you?”_ Before Mark slipped from under the desk and into the receptionist’s office behind her desk. _“Sorry, Mr Ecclestone is in a meeting right now…”_ He moved through the second door that lead out into the corridor Ecclestone’s office was based on. The door right at the end, facing Mark. Mark took a deep breath before he moved forwards.

His bare feet padded quietly on the deep-carpeted floor. As Mark walked, he tried to understand what could possibly be in the other rooms down this corridor. Three on each side holding what? Mark tried not to think about it too much. With a great concept of how this organisation worked he didn’t want to think what kind of communication devices of files were stored behind the innocent wooden doors. He was a few feet from the door when he realised it was slightly open. Mark hid behind it, straining his ears at two voices he knew filtered from the room.

“…That’s not how my organisation works. It may be how yours does but my agents aren’t disposable, Ecclestone. I train them hard.” Fritz barked in an angry tone. Mark heard Ecclestone chuckle.

“And you think my agents just walk onto the battlefield unarmed?” Ecclestone smiled. Mark’s fist clenched. “The payment is settled. You gave me the Machine and I gave you Agent Two.”

“Neither of which I currently have.” Fritz growled. Mark could see Ecclestone lean forwards on his desk through the crack in the door.

“You should have kept Webber under control then.” Ecclestone shrugged. “You took one too many things, Fritz. We did not agree on that.”

“My agents want revenge and I will damn sure give it to them.” Fritz spat. Mark leaned closer to the door.

“So what do you propose we do about this sticky situation, eh, Fritz?” Ecclestone said lightly, sitting back down.

“I want Fernando.” Fritz barked. Mark visibly tensed.

“Agent Fourteen, Fritz. I know how you love names but won’t it make it easier to kill him if you skip the pleasantries?”

“Excuse me, Sir?” Mark’s head snapped down the hallway as a man in a suit headed towards him. Mark didn’t even flinch as he moved towards the man, grabbing his outstretched wrist and slamming his second palm into the top of his arm, dislocating his shoulder. The man yelled out but Mark clammed his hand to his mouth, bringing his knee into his stomach and watching the man crumple to the ground. As the suited man held his shoulder, coughing and whining in pain, Mark pulled his gun out of his holster and collected the roll of gaffer tape off the floor (Mark assumed the man had been holding it) stretching a strip over his mouth. The man tried to complain but Mark tapped the barrel of the gun to his lips in a ‘shh’ motion before moving back down the hall. He repositioned himself against the door, now with the gun poised.

“…Set up another mission to leave us Agent Fourteen and then we won’t need to attack.” Fritz was explaining. Mark took hold of the door handle.

“I’m not handing him over to you, Fritz. He’s a valuable member of my team.” Ecclestone said calmly. Fritz laughed.

“You don’t have valuable members of your team. They’re all disposable in your mind. You pass them around to get what you want! Have you actually told them Davison is still alive or have you just let them continue thinking he’s dead?”

“Davison is doing very well in the Toy-Ota development centre as far as I am aware.” Ecclestone beamed.

“So what’s stopping me from going down to Agent Fourteen’s room right now and just getting my own revenge?”

“You could try his room but you probably won’t find him in there.” Ecclestone said in a blasé tone. It had Mark fumble for a moment, trying to understand what he meant. “And you’d also have to get through Agent Two.”

“That wouldn’t be too much of a hassle for me.” Fritz said in a tone Mark didn’t like. Or trust. “We will attack if you don’t hand him over. Or at least set up a situation in which he can be captured. And if we attack you won’t know when and we will kill everyone and anyone who gets in our way.” Fritz said defiantly. Before Ecclestone could respond Mark burst into the room, gun poised in both hands directed at Fritz. Fritz was stunned, stumbling backwards slightly as Mark advanced on him. Ecclestone barely battered an eyelid.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Mark grunted, clicking the safety latch off the gun. Fritz raised his arms slightly, side glancing at Ecclestone. Ecclestone just sat at his desk, clicking on his intercom.

“Fabiana, darling, could you go and check Michael is Ok?” Ecclestone requested lightly.

“Of course, Mr Ecclestone.” The receptionist’s sweet voice returned. Mark turned to face him, a small frown on his face.

“I wondered how long you were going to wait out there.” Ecclestone mused, turning his computer screen so Mark could see the CCTV footage of the corridor. Fabiana walked into the shot and tended to Michael, the man Mark had attacked to retrieve the gun.

“He’s not having Fernando.” Mark shot at Ecclestone, turning the gun to him. Ecclestone simply linked his fingers together, studying Mark.

“No. As you’ve already heard I’m not handing him over.” Ecclestone nodded. Mark turned back to Fritz, training the gun on him. Fritz raised his arms to elbow height again.

“Even if you attack I won’t let you have him.” Mark spat.

“You know that’s not how this works, Webber.” Fritz returned. Mark pressed the barrel of the gun to Fritz’s forehead.

“It is now.”

“Is there something I can help you with, Mark. Because I know they did a good job on you at the P-Orsche but there is no way you can read minds now and know this meeting was happening.” Ecclestone laughed a little. Mark continued to glare at Fritz.

“What did you do to me?” Mark asked, pressing the gun closer to Fritz, his finger hovering over the trigger.

“What did _I_ do?” Fritz asked, slightly stunned.

“Yes. Tell me exactly what you did. Then tell me exactly what that Machine is doing to me.” Mark bit.

“Agent Two, Please just calm down-” Ecclestone tried, getting to his feet.

“-Don’t.” Mark bit, turning the gun on him. But Mark saw a better way. He could shoot Fritz and then take Ecclestone and throw him against the wall, dizzying him. Then catch his tie and haul him onto the chair and hang it off the candelabra wall light. Then kick the chair away and leave the two dead bodies in the room, shooting anyone else with the rest of the bullets that tried to stop him getting back down to Fernando. “We’re not on good terms.” Mark spat, forcing the violent images from his head. Fritz gave a small laugh that had Mark spinning back to him, frowning.

“Was mine merciful? Quick?” Fritz asked. Mark gripped the gun tighter not truly understanding what Fritz was implying. There was no way they could know what he was thinking. “And how many different ways have you thought about it with your friends?” Fritz said, his smile growing. Ecclestone frowned a little. Fritz took a step towards Mark and got the gun back in his face.

“I will kill you.” Mark spat. Fritz shook his head, a sadistic grin on his face.

“You wouldn’t. First you want answers. And then you still wouldn’t.”

“I will.”

“Then pull the trigger.” Fritz challenged. Mark was torn. He had to do this to save Fernando but he couldn’t. His finger gravitated to the safety latch rather than the trigger. Fritz laughed as Mark dropped the gun, staring at his hands. “Your choice, Bernie. We’ll give you three days to set up an attack or we’ll come after him.” Fritz smiled, moving from the room. “But I’d be careful there.” Fritz said in the doorway.

“And why is that?” Ecclestone asked calmly. Fritz laughed at Mark one last time before looking over at Ecclestone.

“You’ve got a P-Orsche boy in your ranks.” Fritz beamed. “I’ll see myself out.” And with that Fritz disappeared. Ecclestone sat back down, carrying on with his work as Mark just stood there, looking at the gun in his hands.

“I think that’s all, yes, Agent Two?” Ecclestone asked without even looking up from the paperwork in his hands. Mark nodded, looking at the window. If he pushed Ecclestone out of it no one would know it was him. Ecclestone could have jumped. No one would know. “Then I suppose you can see yourself out as well.” Ecclestone’s voice clipped. Mark moved from the room dropping Michael’s gun on Ecclestone’s desk as he did. He was going to go straight back to Fernando. He panged to be in close proximity to the Spaniard. But something had him moving towards the exit of the building. He caught up to Fritz as he walked into the stairwell.

“You’re quick, Mark.” Fritz smiled, still walking away from Mark. Mark followed, two steps behind him. “That Machine has done you good.”

“What have you done to me?” Mark asked again, glaring at the back of Fritz’s head. Fritz laughed again, setting Mark’s skin on fire.

“Made you a better agent, Mark.”

“I’m not a P-Orsche agent… I’m here, on the Elite… With Fernando...” Mark pressed, more trying to convince himself. Fritz stopped, turning to face Mark with a smile.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Mark caught his collar and pushed him against the wall so fast all of the air was knocked out of him.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?” Mark yelled in Fritz’s face.

“What has happened that makes you think that, Mark?” Fritz said softly, calmly, like a schoolteacher talking to his class, after catching his breath. Mark gripped his shirt tighter. “We helped you. We made you stronger. We made you the best agent here.”

“Then why do I want to kill Fernando?” Mark spat without really thinking about it. He just wanted answers. Fritz smiled at him.

“The P-Orsche agents want to kill Fernando, Mark.” Fritz reminded. Mark shook his head, dragging Fritz over to the handrail. The gap down the middle. Thirteen flights of stairs and no soft impact at the bottom. Unlike the situation with Fernando, this would definitely kill Fritz.

“I am not a P-Orsche agent. I’m here. My allegiance is here.” Mark spat. Fritz grabbed Mark’s shirt to stable himself.

“Fernando is here.” Fritz nodded. “He is your allegiance. But what if he wasn’t? What’s left here for you if Fernando is dead?”

“I won’t let you kill him!” Mark growled, pushing Fritz further over the edge. Fritz remained calm.

“But _you_ want to kill him. You just told me you did.” Fritz reminded. Mark shook his head.

“It’s not just him. It everyone. Everyone here. I can’t help it. I can’t help but imagine ways to kill them. All of them. And they’re my friends! So tell me what you’ve done to me or I will let go.” Mark threatened, pushing into Fritz’s shoulders.

“Think about what you’ve just said.” Fritz started. Mark pushed him back further.

“I’m not in the mood for cryptic clues. I want answers.”

“Who do you imagine killing, Mark?”

“Everyone!”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone at the-” Mark froze. His grip on Fritz slackened as the penny dropped. Fritz tried to catch his shoulder but Mark fell back against the opposite wall, sliding down it until he could hug his knees to his chest. The P-Orsche had programed his head to want to kill everyone at the Elite. Mark shook his head.

“It’s alright, Mark.” Fritz tried, patting his shoulder. Mark pushed him off him, slamming him into the handrail on the other side of the stairs.

“It’s not.”

“That’s just who you are now. You’re one of us.”

“I’m not!” Mark spat, catching Fritz’s collar again. Fritz sighed.

“If you’re not then push me down these stairs. Kill me right now and prove to yourself you’re right.” Fritz ordered. Mark just glared at him. He wanted, so badly, to prove himself right but his grip was already slipping off Fritz. Already loosening on him. Fritz brushed down his shirt as Mark curled back against the wall.

“Why?” Mark breathed, heels of his hands pressed into his eyes.

“The Machine.” Fritz said softly. Mark glared up at him. “We didn’t think you were coming back. So we experimented with the drug we give our new agents. One that makes them hate anything they used to be attached to, for you of course that means the Elite. The Machine’s effects enhance that drug. They make it impossible for you to be here without wanting to kill everyone attached to it. It’s an embedded behaviour. A behaviour we have embedded into you.”

“I won’t kill him. Never.” Mark shot at Fritz. Fritz smiled. 

“Tell me, how many times have you come up with a way to kill Fernando in the passed three days?” Mark swallowed at Fritz questions. At least fifteen different scenarios poured into his head. “If we wanted you to, you would.” With that Fritz moved down the stairs, whistling as he did. Mark pushed himself to his feet. No. He wouldn’t allow it.

Without a second thought he stormed through the Elite building, rushing to get back to Fernando’s side. He was happy when he found Fernando tucked safely in Mark’s bed. But he wasn’t asleep. Fernando opened his mouth to asked him where he had been but Mark claimed his mouth with his own, not caring how many bruises he pushed into Fernando’s skin. Fernando was panting heavily as Mark torn their clothes off, scattering them around the room. He forced himself to focus on pleasuring Fernando and pushing down that side of him that wanted to spread his blood across the floor. He teased Fernando open, trying not to think of how easy it would be to smother him with a pillow or break ever bone in his body.

As he thrust into Fernando the man below him screamed out in pleasure. He could see Fernando gripping onto him, feel his nails scratching marks into his back. His neck highly exposed as he arched his back up into Mark, never wanting the feeling of ecstasy to go. Mark thought about how he could drag his razor blade across Fernando’s neck or push so hard onto his chest that his ribs splintered. He forced himself to keep thrusting into Fernando, grazing his teeth up and down his neck. How close he was to ripping through Fernando’s skin. He teased his tongue with the idea, dragging it up Fernando’s small buzz of hair that decorated his neck and chin. How easy it would be to offer to shave it for him and slip. Mark forced the thought away, catching Fernando’s moans and cried in his mouth.

When they had both cum, Mark’s hand pumping at Fernando frantically until he was a withering mess in his arms, Fernando fell almost instantly asleep. Mark held him close, drawing soft pattern up and down his arm as he desperately fought to not hurt Fernando. _He didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t want to hurt him._ Mark looked down at Fernando’s bandage on his side before tearing his eyes to his face. Peaceful. Sleeping.

Mark didn’t want to render him to sleep forever. And he would do everything in his power to make sure it didn’t happen.

\- - -

“Mark, what are we doing on the roof?” Fernando asked as Mark dragged him out onto the open floor. He marvelled in the rising sun as Mark held his fingers tightly in his own. Mark took them over to their usual spot. He had something to say to Fernando but after what Ecclestone had said last night he was no longer sure his room was a safe place to talk. Fernando pushed close to him as they stood under their tree on the edges of the roof garden. Fernando hummed pleasantly as he kissed at Mark’s neck. “This is nice. Has been a while…”

“Yeah…” Mark stole a few moments just holding Fernando close to him. Holding him close until he potentially signed his own death warrant. “You know I love you.” Mark muttered into his hair, breathing him in as if it were the last time. Fernando gripped into his shirt closer, worried by Mark’s tone.

“And I love you too, Mark. With all my heart.”

“And all I ever want is you to be safe.” Fernando lent back out of Mark’s hold, looking up into his eyes with a frown.

“Are worrying me now, Mark.”

“That even if I wasn’t here-” Fernando stopped Mark speaking by crashing his lips onto his.

“Stop this.” Fernando breathed, swirling his fingers into Mark’s hair.

“I need you to promise me something.” Mark said, catching Fernando’s cheeks and dragging his thumb gently across it. Fernando searched his eyes desperately, trying to understand what was going on.

“Anything.” Fernando muttered holding Mark’s gaze.

“P-Orsche will come.” Mark said bluntly. Fernando frowned.

“Do not know this. Is just a threat.”

“I know, Fernando, OK?”

“You cannot know.”

“God damn it!” Mark yelled, turning from Fernando and hitting their tree. Fernando flinched at his sudden outburst but barely had the chance to move as Mark had hold of his cheeks again. “You don’t understand, Ok? You just can’t. But you’re part of a bigger game now. When they fucking come here they’ll be after you.”

“Me?” Fernando breathed, face coated in worry. “Why me?”

“They want revenge, Fer.”

“Revenge?”

“You remember the special you killed? When you were covering me? The night I went-”

“-I remember.” Fernando said sharply. He never wanted to relive that night again.

“They want revenge for that. That was the information they were after from me.” Mark said gently, trying to pull Fernando closer. Fernando frowned at him.

“Wait, you tell them it was me?”

“Fernando they fucked with my head! They put me under truth serum. I had no fucking idea what I had told them until it was too late.” Mark tried soothingly. Fernando’s eyes flitted around as everything started to fall into place.

“I tell you they lie! When they say we can both stay! They use you as a trap! A trap to capture me so they can kill me!” Fernando gasped, pushing away from Mark. Mark grabbed his wrist.

“That’s why I got you out of there.” Mark pulled him close, rubbing his back until Fernando had calmed down. “I didn’t know that’s why they wanted you. If I had have done I’d have come straight back with you. Back here. Fernando, I never want to put you in harms way. Ever.” Mark cooed. Fernando pulled him closer.

“Promise you will never leave me.” Fernando whispered. “Promise you will always stay here with me where I know you are safe. We are safe, Mark. Even if we have to hide.” Mark had to bite his tongue. He wasn’t sure if he had given Fernando too much already in terms of going back on his word to Ecclestone but explaining how they were very much not safe would definitely be the last pin in his coffin. So he held Fernando tighter.

“I promise, Fer.” Mark kissed into his hair. “But you have to promise me that when they come you stand by me. Fuck what the Elite orders you to do I need you by my side. Because then I can protect you.”

“Promise, Mark.” Fernando sniffed, curling closer. He desperately wanted to ask Mark how he knew all of this. How he knew the P-Orsche were, in fact, coming and how he knew they would be after him. But Fernando just encouraged Mark’s lips to his. Now wasn’t the time. Now they just had their promises.

Ecclestone paused the video on the image of Fernando kissing Mark and turned back to his room full of Majors.

“As you see, we potentially have a problem.” Ecclestone explained. Major Mateschitz sat forwards with a frown. Major Di Montezemolo turned away from the screen with a bored expression.

“Potentially? Why is this the first I’m hearing of this?” Mateschitz spat, glaring at Ecclestone. Ecclestone sighed. “Did he know about this?” He pointed an accusatory finger at Montezemolo. Montezemolo batted his hand away.

“You have known something was going on between Agent Two and Agent Fourteen for ages, Dietrich.” Montezemolo sighed in a bored manner. Mateschitz glared at him.

“I’d be careful what you’re implying there, Luca-”

“-Gentlemen, please-” Ecclestone tried, but Mateschitz kept talking.

“-Because it sounds like you think I am Ok with this situation.”

“Has been going on for years.” Montezemolo snapped back. Mateschitz got to his feet.

“YOU LET THIS GO THIS FAR!?”

“Dietrich, sit down.” Ecclestone ordered. Mateschitz turned on him.

“We have rules, General! Rules that are supposed to be stuck to!”

“Take these agents as an experiment if you will.” Ecclestone said, gripping tightly to Mateschitz’s shoulder until he sat down. “What they have has proven in-expendable. If it weren’t for their love then we would have lost two agents in the past fortnight.” Mateschitz huffed as Ecclestone returned to the head of the table. “You remember our meeting after Agent Two returned to us-”

“-Yeah,” Major Lopez said, frowning. “But you said Agent Two would keep his mouth shut. None of the other agents will find out how this organization runs.”

“Do I need to play the tape again?” Ecclestone raised an eyebrow and Lopez fell back in his chair.

“Surely then is simple,” Major Wolff shrugged. “We terminate him for breaking his word.”

“Would not work.” A voice muttered from the corner. Ecclestone indicated to the man sitting at the side of the room.

“He would know.” Ecclestone smiled. Wolff frowned at the man.

“Why would it not?”

“Justify his termination to the other agents without telling them how this organization runs.” The man said in a tired tone. Ecclestone smiled.

“Besides, if we are in agreement that Agent Fourteen will not be handed to P-Orsche-”

“-He is going nowhere.” Montezemolo spat. Mateschitz sighed.

“We get him out of here then we can focus on the effects of the Machine with Agent Two. Start preparing to include the Machine into our training programs.” Mateschitz said. Montezemolo folded his arms.

“Agent Fourteen is not leaving. We will not just hand him back. Not after everything we did to return him here.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a soft spot for him, Luca.” Major Dennis sneered from opposite him on the table. Montezemolo glared at him.

“Let’s throw one of your agents away, yes? See how this effects your program.”

“Fine. We have Juniors more than ready to step up.” Dennis shrugged. Montezemolo fell back in his chair. “After our success with Agent Ten we’re more than ready to do it again.”

“Let us get back to the initial issue, please.” Ecclestone tapped insistently on the television screen. “I say we do nothing.” The room poured into outbursts of claims that Ecclestone had finally lost it. Ecclestone held up his hand to silence to room. He looked between the outraged expressions and confused frowns of his Majors. “Agent Two has not told anyone how we run this organization. So far, he has kept his word.”

“But one more slip up like this-” Dennis started.

“-There won’t be another slip up.” Ecclestone said calmly. Everyone frowned.

“What if Agent Fourteen asks something and Two just gives him the answer because of this?” Lopez claimed, pointing at the screen.

“That won’t happen. Agent Two will be reprimanded for this. I will personally make sure it does not happen again.” Ecclestone said, placing a file on the desk from his drawer. Everyone looked at it. “One more slip up and we will be forced into immediate termination.”

“But what-” Wolff started. Ecclestone got bored of their doubt in him.

“-Last time I checked I ran this organization.” Ecclestone spat, glaring at each of them. All of the men around the table fell silent. “What I want happens. You’re all just brought in here to point out flaws, not tell me I’m wrong.” The man who had sat at the edge of the room, barely part of the conversation, got up and left on Ecclestone’s words. Niki slammed the door behind him. He hated this organization. He wished he had been smart like Michael; refused to learn how it was run. Just worked downstairs, clueless to how the agents were just pieces in a giant game. He marveled at how Mark was doing it. Knowing how easily Fernando could be snatched from him but still not telling the Spaniard what was going on.

Oh yes, Niki had seen everything that had ever gone on between Mark and Fernando. Ecclestone had held onto Niki as an expert on the subject. Niki had to watch each agent and tell Ecclestone of new relationships, relationships that looked like they were about to start, potential love affairs, one-night stands. Mark and Fernando had been captivating to watch. And although Niki spent most of the time he was out of his office with the Silver Elite, he liked to be around Nico because he reminded him so much of Nico’s dad, Keke, when he was in his office he was more often than not drawn to Fernando and Mark, scouring the security cameras until he found them.

It hurt to watch them sometimes; it made him remember James.

“Right.” Ecclestone said, clapping his hands together just after Niki had left. “Teams for next year.” Ecclestone started handing out his perspective team sheets to the respective Majors…


	10. My Own Rules, My Own Terms, My Own Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you really want, do you really want me?   
>  Do you really want me dead, or alive to live a lie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to give a heads up on a tissue warning for this part…  
> It's tough…
> 
> You have been warned.  
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Mark?” Simon knocked again on Mark’s door. He was on the verge of opening it himself, but as he reached for the handle Mark’s head appeared in the frame. He was frowning. And holding the door very much shut.

“Sorry… Can I help?” Mark asked, slightly desperate. Simon frowned at him.

“This is for you.” Simon said, passing Mark a file. Mark slipped his hand round the door and took it before moving to shut the door. “Wait!” Simon said, catching the edge of the wood. Mark sighed.

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

“Why?”

“We haven’t really spoken since you came back. You’ve been disappearing a lot.” Simon said, folding his arms.

“Now’s not a good time.” Mark said, closing the door again. Simon glared at him, smacking his palm on it.

“God damn it, Mark.” Simon exasperated.

“Look, I’m in the middle of something very important for Horner. We’ve got a debrief in an hour anyway. We’ll talk then.” Mark implored. Simon just shook his head.

“That been replaced with an emergency teams meeting.” Simon said. Mark swallowed. He knew today was the day Ecclestone’s three-day deadline for Fernando expired.

“Alright, but give me ten min-Ow.” Simon frowned at Mark’s outburst of pain. “Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes and I’ll meet you in your office.”

‘Why can’t you come now?” Simon moaned. Was it really too much to ask Mark to catch up with him? It felt like an eternity since they had just talked.

“I have to finish this job for Horner.” Mark reminded. Simon dropped his head.

“Right…”

“Twenty minutes. Grab a coffee and I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.” Mark smiled as he shut the door. He exhaled a breath as Fernando’s arms came around his waist.

“Am a job for Horner now, am I?” Fernando teased, kissing the back of Mark’s neck. Mark turned and scooped him into his arms.

“You know how wrong that sounds, right?” Mark smiled, knowing it would embarrass Fernando. Fernando proved him right by blushing a brilliant red. “Do you want to be a job for Horner?”

“Mark!” Fernando tried to push out of his hold, disgusted by what Mark was implying. Mark just laughed at him, stealing a kiss that Fernando instantly melted into. “Have twenty minutes.” Fernando purred, catching the edges of Mark’s undone shirt and pulling him back towards the bed. Mark lent over him as Fernando fell backwards.

“Yeah, thanks for kicking me.” Mark said. Fernando stuck his tongue out at him, slipping his hands underneath the shoulders of Mark’s shirt and watching it puddle on the floor.

“Would not have both finished in ten minutes.” Fernando shrugged. Mark kissed his forehead.

“You know, I don’t think I remember you being this horny, mate.” Mark grinned as Fernando kissed up his neck.

“Mmm…” Fernando hummed, deliberately sending the noise straight to Mark’s groin.

“Maybe when we first got together… But you were cute and nervous then…”

“And now?” Fernando asked, holding the back of Mark’s neck lightly as he knelt up in front of him so they were at the same height.

“Now you’re just drop-dead sexy.” Mark sighed, running his hands over Fernando’s hips and watching their path.

“Then my plan works.”

“Mmm…”

“Am up here, Mark.” Fernando laughed, stealing Mark’s lips again. Mark pushed Fernando back on the bed, climbing on top of him as Fernando pulled him down for a kiss again. Mark’s foot accidently knocked a pile of files across the room and they both turned at the sudden sound.

“Two seconds.” Mark promised, pecking Fernando’s lips before he crawled off him. Fernando sighed, leaning up on his elbows with an amused expression as Mark tidied the room.

“This is eating into our precious twenty minutes.” Fernando laughed as Mark scooped up the file Simon had just given him. He frowned at the bold red _CRITICAL_ on the front, just below his name. “See? Would have never finished in ten minutes.” Fernando continued as Mark flipped open the file. Mark’s frown dropped to the floor, his expression being replaced by pure panic. Because he was looking down at an image of Fernando and him kissing on the rooftop, dated a couple of days ago. Mark shook his head as he pulled the one page of notes from behind it. It was Ecclestone’s notepaper, the formal headed made that extremely clear.

_Don’t slip up again. It won’t end well for either of you._

“What is wrong?” Fernando said, moving across to Mark. Mark snapped the file shut. Fernando didn’t know Ecclestone knew about them and to calm Fernando down would mean to explain. Everything. And that would be his last slip up. _It won’t end well for either of you._

“Horner’s got me training a new kid.” Mark said, not exactly lying. He had been given the training schedule the other day. Fernando looked up at him. Raising and eyebrow and showing he didn’t believe Mark.

“New kid?” Fernando said, moving to take the file from Mark’s hands. Mark turned his back, burying the file between the pile he had sitting on his desk and scooping up the papers he had kicked on the floor to place on top of them.

“Daniil.” Mark nodded, taking Fernando’s hands in his.

“Daniil?” Fernando scoffed as Mark led him back to the bed.

“I’ll show you my schedule.”

“Please do.” Mark sighed as Fernando stood defiantly in front of him.

“Weren’t you moaning that we only have twenty minutes?” Mark said, checking his watch. “Eighteen now...”

“Show me the file later then.” Fernando stated as he pushed Mark back on the bed. Mark smiled as he caught Fernando in his arms, pulling him close as the Spaniard crawled on top of him, stealing his mouth. They both moaned, the sound caught by the other’s mouth, as they ground their hips together. It would be messy but quick. And if they did it fast, Fernando thought, maybe he could steal a bonus shower with Mark before he left. Mark would have enjoyed it more if he had been able to not think about the fact Ecclestone was everywhere.

Nowhere was safe anymore. He could never talk to Fernando confidently again.

\- - -

The last time Fernando had sat in the strategy room he had thought he had lost Mark. So there was a huge sense of relief to have the Australian sitting next to him. Fernando, however, didn’t miss the deep frown on his face, nor the way Simon was being completely ignored. He looked around the table but no one else seemed to have noticed Mark’s odd expression. He placed a hand on Mark’s knee and the Australian flinched as if Fernando had pulsed him with electricity. His expression softened when he looked at Fernando but Fernando continued to look at him in a worried manner.

Sebastian with the stapler, Simon with a chair, Romain and Jenson with the telephone cord. Mark couldn’t stop. Everything had become a weapon he could use to kill someone close to him. Physically and mentally close. He hated the P-Orsche. Hated them for what they had done to him. He was a time bomb. At any second he could find a ‘next step’ and take out everyone in the room. And how could he explain to Fernando that the P-Orsche had corrupted him in this way? Fernando would just want to help. But Mark was scared that the closer he let Fernando get involved in his situation the more danger he would put himself in. Mark decided against it. Fernando didn’t need to know.

Andrea didn’t miss Mark and Fernando’s hands linking under the table. He decided to pretend he hadn’t noticed, engage in a conversation with Rocky instead.

Sebastian still couldn’t forgive Mark for what he did. How could Fernando be so close to him right now? Didn’t Fernando hate him for almost killing him? The wound still hadn’t healed; Sebastian knew that. Damn it, everyone knew that. Probably even Mark. But Fernando still acted as if nothing had changed. As if the dynamic in their friendship hadn’t changed. He didn’t understand. Sebastian thought back to the jacket Fernando had taken when they all thought Mark was dead, the jacket the Australian was now sporting. He just didn’t understand.

“So where is Felipe?” Mark asked in a hushed voice as the chatter around them continued. Fernando looked over to the empty spot next to Rob who was looking a little lost.

“Felipe was hurt.” Fernando said calmly. Mark frowned deeply at him.

“Hurt?”

“On the rescue mission for us. Apparently he went one too far, got them detected and suffered for it.” Fernando’s eyes were only on Rob, tapping his fingers rhythmically on his notepad, completely disconnected from the conversations around him.

“Is he Ok?”

“Yes. Perfectly fine. But Montezemolo thinks he is better based here. Does not want to risk-”

“-He doesn’t think he’s good enough.” Mark amended quietly. Fernando looked up at him.

“Has been signed over to the White Elite.”

“White?” Mark frowned. Fernando just nodded.

“Major Williams was more than happy to accept him. Apparently will be good for his team because he has had the training that we have about holding out in interrogation. So will be able to spot it.”

“Right…” Mark said, frowning a little. The door opened and Kimi slouched in, taking the empty seat between Rob and Sebastian, wearing a red shirt. Mark frowned at him.

“So Kimi-?”

“-Montezemolo thinks he is a good pairing for me.” Fernando shrugged, sipping at his water. Mark looked over at Fernando.

“And you think…?”

“What does that matter?” Fernando scoffed. Mark bit his tongue. Of course it mattered what Fernando thought. Just not to the Elite. Not to Ecclestone. They all had to work to the program they were provided with. Mark wondered vaguely if it was like that at P-Orsche…

Sebastian turned abruptly from Kimi, not understanding why his heart was fluttering or why he was loosing control of his breathing. He blushed rapidly as Kimi lent across him to reach for the water jug. Sebastian didn’t understand. He tried not to breath in too much as Kimi drifted back passed him, feeling the room sway a bit. They only thing that had changed was Kimi was now wearing red…

“So Felipe is at White, Kimi is at Red,” Mark summed up. Fernando nodded in confirmation. “Then what about Black? There is a gap.” Mark frowned, but his question was answered as Fernando opened his mouth to speak. Mark tensed as Pastor walked into the room, smiling like a cocky idiot and taking the seat next to Mark Slade. Slade gave his new agent a side glace before sighing and dropping his head, continuing his scribbling on his notepad. Mark gapped at him as Pastor smoothened down his Black Elite shirt. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Is apparently exactly what we need on the field team…” Fernando shrugged, doodling on his pad. Mark shook his head.

“He’s a loose cannon. He’ll end up shooting one of us instead.”

“Mark.” Fernando tutted.

“I’m serious.” Pastor caught Mark’s eye and his smirk intensified. It made Mark’s blood run cold but Pastor kept grinning. He sat back in his chair, folding his arms triumphantly before he sent a small wave Mark’s way. _When you slip up will be right there to throw you back in here._ Mark turned back to Fernando, opening his mouth to say something, but he stopped as he took in Fernando’s doodle. A little lion with a Spanish cape. Fernando was thinking about what Mark had said to him earlier.

“Fernando.” Andrea muttered in Fernando’s ear. Fernando looked up at him before following his gaze across the table to Sebastian. Sebastian was frowning at Mark. Fernando didn’t understand until Mark’s finger brushed his as he traced the little lion Fernando had just drawn.

“Good afternoon, Agents.” Ecclestone smiled, appearing at the head of the table from behind the wall at the back of the room. Fernando folded the page over in his notepad as Mark’s hand fell to his knee. “I expect you all know why you are here.” Ecclestone said solemnly, looking along the row of Lieutenants in front of him. “But first let’s welcome our new agents to the field team. I’m sure we’ll all work well together.” Ecclestone smiled to an awkward silence. Fernando and Mark exchanged a look.

“Right. So on with the mission brief.” Ecclestone clapped his hands together, getting everyone’s full attention. Pastor sat forwards in his chair eagerly, causing those around him to roll their eyes. “As you are all aware the threat of a P-Orsche attack has been on the cards for sometime. I have called you all in today to tell you that, unfortunately, it is no longer a threat.” Mark gripped Fernando’s knee tightly.

“I do not understand,” Sergio frowned from opposite Jenson. Ecclestone raised an eyebrow at Whitmarsh who fell into his chair a little. Whitmarsh had fought hard to keep Sergio on the Laren Elite and was currently on probation by both Major Dennis and General Ecclestone. He knew one slip up could be the end of his career so he couldn’t slip up. Ecclestone looked down the table.

“It’s no longer a threat. The P-Orsche will attack.” Ecclestone said bluntly. Fernando pried Mark’s tight grip off his thigh and tried to rub soothing circles onto the back of his hand. Fernando really wanted to know how Mark had known this was coming but now really wasn’t the time to ask about it. Especially since that was most likely to lead to having to bring up their discussion on the roof. And that would lead to bad consequences. Fernando kept his mouth shut.

“How do we know that, Sir?” Jenson asked, still seeing the confusion on his teammate’s face.

“We have a very good specials branch.” Ecclestone said. Mark fought the urge to scoff. _No, you know Fritz’s three-day deadline expired._ Ecclestone looked around at the table full of nervous agents. “Gentlemen, please. This is good.” Ecclestone nodded. None of them looked convinced. He sighed before continuing. “We have the advantage. The upper hand. We know they are coming. They didn’t know we were.” Some agents relaxed at that. Mark hated the fact he knew Ecclestone was peeling off lie after lie. How many times had he been sat in here for strategy meetings being poured lungfuls of lies? Mark’s fist clenched.

Fernando uncurled his fingers.

“So, what? Alarm will sound. We head to our posts?” Nico asked, repeating the thing he had been prepped for every morning since the threat appeared.

“Surely they will be after something? Are not just attacking for the sake of attacking?” Romain queried. Fernando swallowed dryly. Ecclestone’s eyes flitted to Fernando before he began pacing the room.

“We are not sure exactly what they are after recovering, Agent Eight, but over the past month we have taken two things from them and we are assuming that it is one of these two things.

“Two?” Lewis interrupted, confused. Ecclestone stopped, leaning on the back of Kimi’s chair, nodding. “I-?”

“-The Machine, Agent Forty-Four, and their prisoners.” Ecclestone pointed to Mark and Fernando before moving back to his chair at the head of the table. Fernando blushed deeply, looking at his knees.

“It’s possible they want them back?” Andrea said suddenly, pure shock and worry coating his voice.

“Possible?” Ecclestone laughed. “Probable.”

“But the Machine… We took they’re Machine. Surely that’s of higher value than our agents.” Simon tried to justify. Ecclestone just laughed lightly.

“You think that Machine is more valuable than a successful Agent having used it?” Ecclestone asked. Everyone was stunned into silence. Especially Fernando. Mark closed his eyes, feeling everyone’s eyes burning into him. Fernando’s hand slipped from his grasp. “It is possible they want they’re Machine back. It’s also possible they want Agent Two for his new… Skills.” Ecclestone hung on the word making Mark feel incredibly uncomfortable. “Or it is possible they are after Agent Fourteen for some unknown reason.” Ecclestone shrugged. Mark opened his eyes, glaring at Ecclestone as he sipped on his scotch. Ecclestone knew exactly why they would want Fernando back. It would only end one horrifically painful way for the Spaniard and Mark wouldn’t have it. “After all, it was easier for us to rescue Agent Two on our recent rescue mission…” If Mark slammed the glass into his face, holding the back of his neck still, it was probable that he could get one of those ice cubes lodged in Ecclestone’s throat. But then he would have a room full of Agents and Lieutenants to fight through… And he’d have to explain his actions to Fernando…

“So, what then, we’re covering everyone?” Pastor asked with a deep frown. Ecclestone sighed.

“Agent Two and Agent Fourteen are more than capable of looking after themselves. Besides, we work in teams anyway. They will have cover.” Ecclestone nodded. Mark gritted his teeth. “We want to look after the Machine. That cannot protect itself.”

“Should we have a team on that?” Dave asked from Jenson’s left, frowning down on a floor plan for the building. “How about Red? We can get Fourteen up here training a sniper on the Machine in case anyone gets close-” Mark opened his mouth to protest but Ecclestone cut across.

“With the potential they are after Agent Fourteen basing him by the Machine is too risky.” Ecclestone clarified.

“That rules out Bull as well then…” Rocky muttered sending Mark a dirty look.

“Let’s get Black set up there then. Agent Twenty-Two and Eleven can lead the Laren Juniors to the fight, try and contain them at the entrance.” Mark Slade said, leaning across to point to Dave’s diagram.

“That’s if they attack from the entrance.” Brawn mentioned. Everyone looked his way. “If we were attacking then would we wait? Would we go obvious? We need every entrance and exit covered.”

“Brawn’s right,” Horner nodded. “Which means we’re going to need to pull on the base teams. Toro will be available. Agent Twenty-Five will be up for the challenge.”

“And what about your Juniors?” Domenicali asked. Horner just nodded.

“All ready. All trained and prepared. Focused on strategy, maybe, but they know how to point a gun and kill someone with it.”

“Green houses most of the Juniors. They house ours.” Boullier nodded along with Horner. “I’ll get down there and see if Agent Ten has anyone ready for us.”

“And we have Agent Seventeen in the wings.” Domenicali added. “Highly experienced on heavy weaponry.”

“Wouldn’t he be best to cover the Machine then?” Whitmarsh asked. “He could rig the room and stand guard, just in case.”

“Let’s put both Cosworth Agents down there. Then if Agent Seventeen is needed by Red Agent Four can keep cover of the Machine.” Brawn said to unanimous agreement. The discussions went on between Lieutenants and Agents, everyone finding a place. Everyone getting a position. Fernando tensed slightly when the Red and Bull Elite were separated across the building but a reassuring squeeze to his knee from Mark made him relax a bit. It wasn’t just that he had promised Mark he would stay by his side, he wanted to. And the thought of having to tear through the building to rush to Mark’s aid was unappetizing. Fernando had to take it though; if he suddenly asked to be stationed next to Mark that would raise suspicion. And, considering Ecclestone had written them both to be targets of the P-Orsche attack, it made sense why they other agents thought it was best they were separated. Fernando knew better though. And knowing he was the target made him want Mark’s protection more. Especially if Mark had been rigged up to this Machine thing.

The discussion went on until an action plan was made. Each Agent had their own location to move to, all in the pairs of their Elites. The Mission-Engineer Agents would move through to the underground-located control room along with the Lieutenants, Majors and probably General Ecclestone. When everyone left the strategy room they all felt prepared for this sudden attack. Everyone was still discussing the different elements as they left. But Mark hung back. Kimi nodded to him as he left the room, something Fernando missed as he frowned at Mark, really wanting to get the Australian alone so they could talk about this Machine stuff.

“Wait outside. I’ll just be a sec.” Mark muttered in Fernando’s ear, risking pressing a subtle kiss to his cheek as he lent back. Fernando just nodded, still frowning, as he left Mark and waited in the hall. Mark turned on Ecclestone, folding his arms and waiting for everyone to leave. Ecclestone waited patiently, scribbling some notes on some data files as the door clicked shut.

“Can I… Help you, Agent Two?” Ecclestone asked calmly, looking up at Mark.

“You’re not handing him over.” Mark shot. Ecclestone breathed a laugh, standing up straight.

“It’s not my intention.”

“Right. But you’re leaving him uncovered?”

“I’m sure you are going to take care of that, my boy.” Mark glared at him. Ecclestone clicked his pen shut, sliding it into his shirt pocket. Mark just thought about how if he pushed the nib deep enough into Ecclestone’s neck he could give him ink poisoning. It was a fountain pen, so that would make the job easier.

“They can’t have him.”

“You are not the only one who thinks that.” Ecclestone chuckled at the inside joke. Mark had his collar tight in his hands in an instant.

“Why did you lie to them? Why didn’t you tell them the P-Orsche is coming for Fernando? We could all protect him, cover him, make sure he comes to no harm.”

“You make it sound like everyone cares as much about him as you do.” Ecclestone said in a blasé voice, holding Mark’s stern glare. “I can assure you that’s not the case.”

“But if they knew the real reason for the P-Orsche coming. Then we could make one hundred per cent sure that they didn’t get to him.”

“I’m trusting you are going to take care of his protection. If I assigned other agents to him you’d only tell them they were doing an inadequate job.” Ecclestone bit, shoving Mark’s hands off him. “Besides, how can I explain to the Agents and Lieutenants that I know the reason for they’re attack without explaining everything, hey?” Ecclestone shot. Mark blinked at him in a bored manner; jaw locked tightly revealing his anger. “You know by mistake, Webber, and I’ll make damned sure you don’t tell anyone else.”

“If you’re not setting up protection for him don’t expect either of us to follow many orders.” Mark sent back hotly. Ecclestone folded his arms. “Because if you think I’m only here because of him he is only here because of me.”

“Fritz told me you left him near dead. His agents had to work stupidly hard to get him back to the condition we see him in today.”

“But I got him out of there. And, like you said, you could have lost us both. Because of me you have us both back.” Mark spat.

“I think this little meeting is over, Agent Two. Remember what side you are on.” Ecclestone said, turning his back on Mark and collecting up his files. Mark just turned on his heels, storming for the door. “Oh, Agent Two?” Mark stopped walking but simply closed his eyes. He didn’t turn back. “There was one thing that… Confused me,” Ecclestone started, approaching Mark’s back. “See, when Fritz left us a few days ago he mentioned me having a P-Orsche boy in my ranks. That’s not the case is it, Agent Two?”

“No, Sir.” Mark gritted, wanting to leave. He could feel Ecclestone’s breath on his back.

“And your allegiance is still to this program?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” Ecclestone sneered. There was suddenly hot pain on the back of Mark’s neck, sending the Australian crashing to the floor and crying out in pain. Ecclestone’s free hand, not wearing the glove on Mark’s shoulder, covered his mouth.

“And I assure my warning was loud and clear?” Ecclestone snaked acidly in his ear. Mark gave a whimper of pain.

“Yes…” he breathed, trying to catch his breath. But the pain was still hot from Ecclestone’s fingers.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sir.” Mark choked out. Ecclestone let go and Mark fell forwards, grasping at his shoulder.

“Oh, I wouldn’t touch that.” Ecclestone chastened lightly, moving Mark’s hand away from the burn on his shoulder. Mark gasped for breath. “Acid burns are nasty work, Agent Two. Very easily spread from an open wound.”

“Acid…?” Mark breathed. Ecclestone nodded happily. Mark watched as he pulled the white silk glove gingerly from his hand and placed it back in a mahogany box.

“Acid glove. Very useful for a situation like this.” Ecclestone chuckled lightly. He tucked his files under his arms, collecting the box in his hands before turning back to Mark, still lying on the floor. “Agent Fourteen is waiting, Webber. I wouldn’t let him touch that,” Ecclestone indicated to Mark’s shoulder. “Not this hot. I would hate to see him ruin his pretty little face. Not that it will take you long to heal from it.” And with that Ecclestone was gone, leaving Mark panting on the floor, waiting for the P-Orsche medication to begin to heal the burn before he had enough energy to get to his feet.

\- - -

Mark could sense it was close.

“Nano?” He muttered, shaking Fernando’s shoulders. Fernando sleepily and incoherently grumbled, curling closer into Mark’s embrace.

Any minute now.

Mark could definitely feel it.

“Come on, Nano. You need to wake up now.” Mark pleaded, shaking his shoulders harder. Fernando tried to bat him away.

“Sleeping.”

Like the electricity you can feel in the air when a thunderstorm is brewing. Mark’s skin was alight. It was happening now.

“Come on, Fernando! Please!”

The alarm would go off any minute.

“Fernando, seriously. I’m not joking. You need to get up. Come on.” Mark’s desperation was too clear. Fernando gripped tightly to the front of his shirt.

“Just a bad dream. Am still here, Mark.” Fernando tried to sooth.

Of course they were coming in the middle of the night.

Hoping everyone would be groggy and not prepared.

Mark shook his head.

Mark was always prepared.

Mark was always awake.

“Fernando, this isn’t a dream. I need you to get up.” Mark climbed from the bed, pulling on Fernando’s arm and dragging the half asleep mass of his lover into his arms.

“Fuck sake…” Fernando grumbled, rubbing his eyes. Mark cupped his cheeks.

“We need to go.”

“Go?” Fernando yawned as Mark pulled him from the room swinging his backpack over one shoulder.

“Come on, Fernando.” Mark begged, dragging Fernando faster. Fernando stumbled on sleepy feet as Mark effectively crushed all the bones in his hand.

“Mark, stop.” Fernando requested. Mark shook his head.

“We can’t.”

“Where we going?” Fernando tried. But Mark didn’t answer.

Instead he stopped.

“Mark?” Fernando tried gently as Mark’s head snapped around as if he was looking for something.

“Come on. We don’t have time.” Mark snarled, yanking Fernando down the corridor. Fernando didn’t understand. Not one tiny bit. But Mark’s desperation had Fernando jogging beside him, pushing the sleepy ache in his muscles away.

He was shocked when Mark pulled him into his room.

“Wha-?”

“-Get dressed.” Mark ordered, throwing his bag on Fernando’s bed and extracting his field uniform from it. As Mark was laying his guns out of Fernando’s bed he felt Fernando’s hands on his shoulders.

“Explain, please.” Fernando implored softly.

“Get changed. I’ll explain as we change.” Mark said quickly, pressing a kiss to Fernando’s forehead before he pulled Fernando’s pyjama top over his head and threw it across the room. Still frowning Fernando freshened up and returned from the bathroom pulling on his bulletproof undershirt. Mark was already done, clipping his weapon holster tight around his torso. He sighed as Fernando removed his pyjamas and pulled on his uniform trousers. “I don’t think you understand the urgency here, mate.”

“Do not understand.” Fernando agreed, pulling on his boots. He sighed; pulling his field shirt on as Mark knelt down, tying his laces.

“We don’t have much time.” Mark pressed. Fernando frowned down at him, slipping hisBeretta M9 pistol in the holster on his trousers, just above his knee.

“Until what? What is the rush?” Fernando asked. Mark dove into Fernando’s wardrobe, pulling randomly at his weapons as Fernando clipped his holster over his torso. As Mark turned round, placing the nine guns on the bed for Fernando to choose from, he opened his mouth to answer Fernando’s question. But there wasn’t any need.

They were out of time.

The high-pitched squeal of the attack alarm sounded through the entire building.

\- -

“We all remember what we are doing, yes?” Major Dennis yelled over the alarm to the group of Junior Laren Agents in front of him. Twelve of them had agreed to volunteer for the mission. Twelve pairs of nervous eyes looked along the line of authoritative figures in front of them. Major Dennis, Lieutenant Whitmarsh, Agent Robson, Agent Latham, Agent Twenty-Two and Agent Eleven. “Agent Twenty-Two and Eleven will lead you forwards. Stick by them. They will be in constant contact with us. They control you.” Dennis pushed. “Clear?” Twelve nervous nods followed, one boy shouting “Yes, Sir!” in an attempt to rally up his fellow comrades. The call fell flat but the boy looked no less deterred.

“Agent Twenty-Two,” Dennis directed at Jenson, lowering his voice and turning away from the Juniors. “Take half of these soldiers round the east side of the building. Eleven, taking the other half round the West. Get a gauge on the main entrance and cover it. Captain Schumacher has notified us that the main threat is moving to the main gate.”

“There is more than one threat?” Sergio asked.

“We’re not sure. But we’re moving most of you to what we can see.” Dennis exasperated in a stressed manner. “Stick to the plan you made with the other agents… And keep yourselves safe.” A wave of sympathy flashed over Dennis’ face that Jenson didn’t think he’d ever seen before. But it was gone the second it appeared, Dennis turning back to the Juniors.

“Alright! You six, with Agent Eleven! This side of the group with Agent Twenty-Two! Stick together and remember your training!” Dennis clapped his hands together and the Juniors split to their appropriate Agent. Andy, Dave, Whitmarsh and Dennis moved through the room in the opposite direction, heading for the control room.

“Come on, guys! Keep up!” Jenson yelled, moving his squad through the building. He could sense their anxiety. And he knew that wouldn’t be a good thing. Nervous kids normally lead to accidental fatalities. He knew he needed to speak to them. Jenson stopped moving, turning to face them, impressed by the abruptness that they all fell into a formatted group. “Guys, you need to snap out of this.” Jenson started harshly. He remembered the first Agent he had been out on a job with. The speech he was given and how the words he had been told on that first day had stuck with him through the rest of his career. “Think of this as training. If you do everything you’ve done in training you’ll be fine. I’ve seen you. We’ve got the best Juniors I’ve seen in a long while.” As Jenson scrolled his eyes through the crowd of nervous faces he saw the fact of the boy who had yelled out. He looked calm. Passive even. It unnerved Jenson. “We need to remain calm and remember our training. That’s the only way I keep walking away from missions basically unscathed.”

“What if we get shot?” The boy asked. Jenson frowned at him.

“Why are you thinking about that?”

“We’ve not been trained on what to do.” Another Junior said, no colour in his face. Jenson took the boy’s shoulder.

“Don’t think about it. Then it doesn’t happen. In a time like that you’ll know what to do. But you can trust me, I’ve got six of you little buggers to look after and, even if it kills me, I’m going to make sure all six of you get back, alright?” Jenson smiled his characteristic half smile. He cold see their reassurance. The reassurance that someone had their back. That they weren’t just here to be killed instead of Jenson but Jenson would protect them. “Come on. Don’t want them starting without us.”

It was easy to command them now he knew he had their trust. And he was determined to follow through with his promise. They were some of the best Juniors he had seen. And they impressed him. They had a lot of talent. Talent he didn’t want to see wasted with pointless deaths.

“Excuse me, Agent Twenty-Two?” Jenson turned to see the boy who had called out squatting beside him. He smiled lightly.

“How can I help, kiddo?” Jenson whispered back, relaxing his grip on his gun that was resting on the embrasure. The kid seemed to chew on his lip.

“Did you mean what you said back there? That you were going to get us all out alive?” He was dubious. Jenson smiled at him.

“Yes. Every word.”

“It’s just…” The boy started. Then he shook his head. Jenson needed to get the doubt out of this kid’s head. He turned to face him.

“What’s your name?”

“My name?”

“Yeah.” Jenson nodded. The boy looked even more confused.

“Kevin…” He muttered sheepishly. “Kevin Magnussen.”

“Well, Kevin, Kevin Magnussen,” Jenson beamed making Kevin blush. “I swear on my life I’m going to get you out of here alive. Along with your friends.” Jenson indicated back to the five other Juniors waiting, poised. Kevin still chewed on his lip. “Just say it, Kevin. Whatever it is. I can take it.” Jenson joked. “I’m a tough bloke.”

“Major Dennis always said that we had to put ourselves in the line of fire for an agent.” Kevin said to the floor. Jenson leaned close to Kevin, moving his radio from his mouth.

“Sometimes, Major Dennis can be wrong.” Jenson breathed in the young boy’s ear. He nodded with raised eyebrows at Kevin’s shocked expression. “You’re a good soldier, Kevin. One day you’ll be an Agent like me. You’ll see.” Jenson said, slipping his radio back on his head. Kevin looked at him with wide eyes.

“You really think?”

“Yeah.” Jenson nodded, repositioning with his gun. “When the time comes I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Thank you, Agent Twe-”

“-Kevin,” Jenson said, smiling at the boy. “Call me Jenson.”

“Jenson…” Kevin blushed, looking at his gun. Jenson was taken aback. It was endearing… Adorable.

Jenson wanted to make him do it again.

“How about you set up here and prove to Major Dennis that you’re agent material.” Jenson said, happy to make Kevin blush deeper, as he patted the wall beside him. Kevin fumbled slightly.

“I should probably-”

“-Hey.” Jenson said, causing Kevin to look up at him. “Who’s in charge here?” Jenson teased. Kevin, again, blushed.

“You, Sir.”

“You, _Jenson._ ” Jenson corrected with a wink. Kevin’s face was a beacon.

“Right…”

“So take a seat, Kevin. Best view in the house.” Jenson smiled, happy when Kevin relaxed beside him. It was a small space at the point of the spy-spot. On either side of them the other Junior spread along the narrow spy-strip. Jenson could still feel the heat pouring off Kevin’s face in the close proximity. But he was trying desperately not to think about how the boy was making him feel personally. He was just scared. And Jenson only had a primal instinct to protect him because he was scared. Because he had come to him with his fears… Right?

“Thank you… Jenson…” Kevin muttered, looking over at his superior. Jenson instantly fell in love with his eyes, blue like a crystal ocean. Jenson couldn’t look away. He completely lost himself.

“You’re welcome.” Jenson smiled gently, his voice slightly breathless. Now it was his turn to blush. Kevin seemed to match him. “Easier to cover you when you’re right here.” The Brit added to remove the tension that was building between them. It wasn’t allowed. Jenson knew that.

But he so badly wanted to break the rules.

\- -

“Mark-”

“-It’s Ok, Fernando. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Mark chanted, holding Fernando’s body close to him. Fernando was clutching on for dear life.

“Are coming-”

“-They won’t get anywhere near you, Nano. I promise. I’ll make sure of it.”

“But are… Are on different sides of the building.” The panic was clear in Fernando’s voice. Mark cupped his face before pressing their lips together desperately.

“COME ON, AGENTS! LOOK SHARP! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! TO YOUR STATIONS! GET UP!” Brawn’s voice pounded into the room as he moved down the hall, thwacking on each Agent’s door. Fernando pulled Mark closer, tangling his fingers into his hair.

“Promised I would stay with you-” Fernando’s voice still screamed of panic. Mark took his hand.

“-It’s sorted, Fernando.”

“Do not want to leave-”

“-Stay close to me.” Mark said softly, brushing the hair out of his face and kissing him.

“But I cannot-!”

“-I’ve sorted it, Fernando. Trust me.” Mark was leading him from the room. They would be separated as soon as they walked out of there. Fernando dug his heels into the ground.

“Mark please, please do not leave me.” Fernando begged, tears springing in his eyes. Mark pulled him close.

“You need to calm down, Nano. You’re our best shot.” Mark cooed lightly. Fernando shook his head, burying himself in Mark’s embrace.

“Do not want you to go.”

“Fernando-”

“-Stay with me. Fuck the Elite.”

“Fernando, listen-”

“-We do this before. And you tell me to do this-”

“-Nano-”

“-Take your own advice-”

“-Fernando, stop!” Mark held his shoulders tightly. Fernando looked up at him with big eyes. “I spoke to Kimi.” There was a moment of silence.

“Kimi?”

“Kimi is going with Seb. I’m staying with you.” Mark said twice before Fernando understood. “But we need to go now.”

“Stay close.” Fernando said, pressing himself to Mark’s back. Mark handed him his radio.

“You stay closer.” As they left the room, hands locked tightly, Kimi left his. He passed Mark one nod before moving down the hall to Sebastian’s room. Giving Fernando’s hand a reassuring squeeze they headed in the opposite direction. Kimi didn’t even knock as he entered Sebastian’s room.

“Come on.” Kimi directed, holding the door open. Sebastian nodded, scooping up his radio and his Beretta AR70/90. He paused, confused, when he got out into the corridor and there was no Mark. Kimi slammed his door, catching his shoulder and moving him in the opposite direction to Fernando and Mark. “Are you going to walk or do I have to drag you all the way?” Kimi sighed, resting his Franchi SPAS-12 shotgun over his shoulder.

“Where is Mark?”

“Gone the other way.” Kimi grunted, shoving Sebastian through a doorway that led up to the mark point the Bull Elite were supposed to be filling.

“The other way?”

“With Fernando.” Kimi said. He glared at Sebastian when he walked into the back of him because the German had stopped.

“You let him go with Fernando?” Sebastian spat. Kimi shrugged. “He’ll kill him!”

“Said he wanted to protect him.” Kimi shoved Sebastian’s shoulder to make the German move on. But Sebastian spun on his heels.

“He lied.”

“You need to get over this, Sebastian.”

“You saw what I saw, Kimi! You saw what he did to him!”

“Will not do it again. Not here. If he wants to will get Fernando secluded. Too many eyes at the moment.” Kimi shrugged. Sebastian glared at him.

“This is the problem with you, Kimi. You don’t care enough! Now you’ve left one of our agents to be killed!” Sebastian raged. Kimi caught his collar, pushing him against the wall.

“Shut the fuck up. If you have not noticed are in the middle of an attack so quietness would be appreciated.” Kimi glared. Sebastian shoved him off him.

“I’m right, though!”

“Do you think, maybe, I could have had other motivation to leave Fernando for you? Like Mark has other motivation to leave you for Fernando?” Kimi pushed. Sebastian frowned at him. Kimi and he were just friends. Mark and Fernando were just friends. What was the Finn trying to imply?

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Sebastian said. Kimi just rolled his eyes.

“Does not matter.” When Sebastian headed down the stairs rather than up Kimi exasperated.

“I don’t care what you say, Kimi, I don’t trust him.” Sebastian raged as he moved down the stairs. Kimi caught his shoulder, pulling him back up.

“Do not have time to play your games, Sebastian.”

“Get off me, Kimi.”

“Need you covering.”

“Kimi, this is ridiculous!”

“Walk or I carry on pulling you.” Kimi spat. Sebastian glared at him.

“How are you Ok with this? How can you just leave Fernando there with that crazed kill-” Sebastian’s rant was cut short when Kimi’s lips crashed onto his. At first Sebastian was stumped, frozen in shock. He couldn’t understand what was happening. It was all strange. His body was buzzing.

But he liked it.

And when Kimi’s hand pushed into his hair, he liked it even more.

Sebastian moaned softly, pushing himself onto Kimi and fisting his hands into his shirt, desperately trying to get the Finn closer. All of those odd feelings he couldn’t put names on suddenly all made sense. He was gripping so tightly to Kimi, fighting him for dominance of the other’s mouth. Sebastian had never done anything like this, but he relished in Kimi’s touch. The way Kimi’s hands travelled down his back and pulled him closer. The muttered noises of pleasure from the Finn’s throat.

“Com… Come on…” Kimi panted, still kissing Sebastian. Sebastian gripped tighter, pulling at the hem of Kimi’s shirt. Because suddenly he knew exactly what he wanted. Kimi grabbed both his wrists in his hands. “Come on.” Kimi said more forcedly, collecting their guns from the floor.

When Kimi dragged Sebastian back up the stairs he was met with no fight. Sebastian was slightly dazed, Kimi’s words swirling round and round in his head until he only came up with one meaning for them. _Do you think, maybe, I could have had other motivation to leave Fernando for you?_

“Hey,” Kimi brushed a hand gently through Sebastian’s hair to gain his attention. Pressing one soft kiss on his lips he looked deep into Sebastian’s eyes. “Focus now. We think later.”

\- -

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

Captain Schumacher had notified the Agents that the threat was coming only towards the main entrance.

So everyone was waiting.

Kevin pushed himself closer to Jenson’s side.

Jenson resisted wrapping his arm around his shoulder but instead muttered encouraging words softly in his ear, moving his arm so Kevin could press himself up against his side.

Sebastian was watching the focus on Kimi’s face.

Fighting down the need to feel his lips against his again.

Kimi had his hand tightly on Sebastian’s knee, forcing him not to fade away.

Sergio had his eye squinted, looking through his binoculars.

Waiting.

Everyone was waiting.

Romain looked to Pastor, watching the eager smile on his face.

He kissed the locket he wore around his neck before slipping it back under his shirt.

No one knew about Marion.

No one knew about Sacha either.

“See you on the other side.” Nico smiled, holding his hand out to Lewis.

Lewis beamed, taking his friend’s hand.

“Of the fight?” Lewis confirmed.

Nico just smiled.

“Can’t have you bailing out on me.” Lewis tried to joke.

But it fell flat.

Everybody could feel something big was about to happen.

Everyone was on edge.

“I love you. Never leave me.” Fernando whispered, staring at Mark’s face. Mark had borrowed his sniper to use as a telescope.

But he had to look round at Fernando’s words.

“Never. I promise.” Mark caught his cheek, rubbing his thumb soothingly across the bone. Fernando pressed Mark’s hand closer with his own. Closing his eyes and soaking in the feeling.

As if it was the last time.

But Mark promised.

Fernando gripped tighter.

Mark tried not to think about how easily he could smash Fernando’s head against the brick wall they were hiding behind.

“Everyone in position?” Domenicali’s voice poured through the radios.

Everyone radioed back, confirming.

“Kimi?” Sebastian whispered, pulling his radio from his head. Kimi turned to him, worry all over his face. He’d never seen the Finn show so much emotion before.

“What?”

“Wouldn’t they have heard us?” Kimi frowned at Sebastian’s question.

“Who?”

“The bosses…” Sebastian had dread in his voice as he lifted his radio to Kimi. The microphones had a short range, meaning if an agent wasn’t wearing one it was easy to have a conversation undetected, but Kimi had had his on through his whole encounter with Sebastian. And that meant incriminating them both as well as Mark and Fernando. Kimi smiled at him gently.

“Is fine.” He kissed Sebastian’s forehead. Sebastian frowned.

“How?” Kimi pulled the edge of his glove back on his right hand to show Sebastian a button strapped to the base of his thumb with the wire running down his sleeve.

“Everyone always complains am too quite on the radio. Gave me an idea.”

“That turns your mic off?”

“Turns it on. If I need to speak I can. Otherwise they can piss off. Do not need to hear everything I say.” Sebastian was impressed and Kimi pulled his glove back on, smiling.

“What about when you’re shooting?”

“Gun presses against the button. Constantly on.” Kimi smiled at Sebastian’s impressed expression. “So do not go kissing me whilst am shooting.” He smirked. Sebastian blushed.

“No, that would be-” But Sebastian never got to finish his thought.

It had started.

Mark gritted his teeth as he watched Fritz walk towards the entrance to the F1 Elite. The man stopped about sixty yards from the front entrance, smiling. Fernando slid the sniper from Mark’s grip as he saw his finger move towards the trigger. Mark frowned at Fernando but Fernando had his finger pressed to his ear. He was awaiting orders.

_Fuck orders._

“Well, this is nice.” Fritz called, laughing slightly. “My name is Fritz Enzinger and I am the head of the P-Orsche LMP1 program.” He looked up at the wall surrounding him, catching the glint of a gun every now and then. “How many weapons trained on me right now? Ten? Fifteen? One hundred?”

“Hold fire, I want every shooter trained on him.” The cold voice of General Ecclestone poured into the Agent’s ears. Mark’s fists clenched as he took aim with his sniper rifle. Fernando caught his wrist as he reached for the trigger, shaking his head.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.” Fritz said, holding his arms aloft just as he had when Mark had him cornered in Ecclestone’s office. “I’m sure that if I made a wrong step I would be shot so fast with however many bullets you’ve got up there that you would never know which one of you actually gave the fatal blow.” Fritz smiled. But then his expression became more serious. “But that wouldn’t end well for you. You see, you’re sitting there with however many agents and juniors you have, but we would out number you.” He pointed behind him. “Just back there I have fifteen hundred men, agents, juniors, special agents, trainees, all waiting for my signal. And I can assure you if I let them loose we will leave no one alive.”

Jenson grabbed Kevin’s hand tightly, exchanging a quick glance to let him know he wouldn’t let that happen. Kevin swallowed dryly, looking deeply into Jenson’s eyes. And Jenson saw trust. Explicit trust.

He did not want to give Kevin a reason to think that was false.

“So, our conditions.” Fritz continued. “We want one thing and one thing only. You give us that thing and we walk away. No one has to die, no one has to get hurt. You hand it over and we’ll go and leave you to your business.”

“Mark.” Fernando whispered, gripping tightly to Mark’s shoulder as the Australian ground his teeth together, shaking his head. Fernando had never seen him like this. It scared him slightly.

“You bring him down, stand him out here,” Fritz pointed in front of him. “And nobody gets hurt.”

 _Except him._ Mark thought bitterly. He knew exactly what Fritz would do. Fritz would set Fernando down in front of everyone and kill him there and then for all the Elite to see. And then the Elite would know that if the P-Orsche Specials were killed there would be consequence. And revenge. “All you have to do is bring him down quietly. No weapons, no shots, no funny business, and we will walk away leaving you in peace.” Fritz looked around at the stillness above him. Did they know whom he was asking for? Would Ecclestone have told them? Or would they be second guessing right now if it was possibly them.

“Who do we want, you may be asking yourself. We want Agent-” The sound of a single shot echoed through the air. Everyone was stunned to silence as Fritz fell backwards. Not dead, but shot. He grasped at his shoulder, moaning slightly in pain. Jenson looked down his line of Juniors but all of them were looking to him, hands nowhere near triggers. Each one looked stunned, not guilty. And it definitely wasn’t Kevin. Kevin’s trigger hand was locked safely in Jenson’s own. Kimi looked to Sebastian and the exchanged a glance. Romain’s eyes were darting around. It wasn’t Pastor. Pastor had been loading his gun. And last Romain checked you couldn’t fire an unloaded gun. But Fernando’s eyes were wide. Shock and fear and all sorts of emotions were rippling through him as Mark clipped back his sniper, sending the empty bullet holder onto the floor and reloading.

“Who shot?” Ecclestone raged down the radio. Mark pressed his lips tightly together, training his sniper towards the position Fritz had pointed out. “Somebody answer me! He doesn’t just collapse on his own! Who the fuck shot him!”

“Mark?” Fernando breathed, radio discarded on the floor. He touched Mark’s shoulder but he felt like stone. Fernando didn’t like it. He wanted his Mark back. The Mark he had a few minutes ago before they left his room. Mark held his focus on the point in the distance. Waiting for Brendon or Timo or Nick to appear. He’d kill them easily. He wasn’t Enzinger’s precious little P-Orsche boy. He wasn’t going to turn on Fernando. And he wasn’t giving anyone else the chance to either. _You make it sound like everyone cares as much about him as you do. I can assure you that’s not the case._

He was ready to kill anyone who tried to take Fernando away from him.

The quiet still lingered. Ecclestone continued to rage on the radio as everybody tried to work out who had let off the shot. Mark remained poised. In the position he knew he could hold for hours if he had to. That was the effect of the Machine.

_“So what does this Machine do to you then?” Fernando asked as Mark flicked through the attack plan brief lying on his bed. Fernando stood in front of him with his arms folded._

_“I think there are more important things to worry about, mate.” Mark commented, not taking his eyes off the data._

_“This is where you have been going? When you disappear for your ‘sessions’ with Simon.”_

_“Yes.” Mark sighed, running a hand over his face. This isn’t really how he wanted Fernando to find out. If he was honest he didn’t want Fernando to find out at all._

_“Why were you lying to me?” Fernando asked, more hurt by that fact than the fact Mark was getting treatment from this weird Machine. “We never lie to each other. Tell each other everything.”_

_“Sometimes I can’t.” Mark bit, knowing instantly that was a mistake. Fernando crouched in front of him, taking his face in his hands._

_“Tell me. Please. Am worried.”_

_“It’s just an experimental steroid.” Mark shrugged, sitting up. Fernando nodded, encouraging him to say more. “They started giving it to me at P-Orsche and apparently Ecclestone likes the effect.”_

_“So what does it do to you?”_

_“Well, makes me look like this,” Mark gestured to his new toned physique that Fernando knew wasn’t right. “Keeps me awake, constantly alert, improves my hearing, sight, my sense I guess.”_

_“Sense?”_

_“I suppose I have a way of sensing if something is going to happened. I knew you were coming down every time you came to visit me in the room.”_

_“Ok…” Fernando processed the information. “And you cannot sleep?”_

_“No.” Mark scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s a bit of a shit that one.”_

_“So… Will never dream again?” Fernando said, slightly sadly. Mark pulled him into his embrace._

_“I always dream of you. Asleep or not.”_

_“Is not why I ask…”_

_“Fernando, I’m fine. I’m still me… Just an improved version.”_

And that was the bit Fernando didn’t like. Mark didn’t need improving. Mark had been perfect. Now Fernando wasn’t so sure.

“What’s happening?” Agent Eight called down the radio. “Do we have orders? Over.”

“Somebody admit to letting off that fucking shot!” Ecclestone yelled.

“What can we see? Over.” Boullier asked, ignoring Ecclestone’s rants.

“Nothing. Everything is just still. Over.” Agent One called, his eyes scanning the floor rapidly.

“Something has to be happening.” Horner stressed. “He said he would let them loose if anything happened. Over.”

“That’s what I thought but there is nothing. Over.” Agent Twenty-Two said in a confused tone.

“There is a group coming in from high left. Over.” Agent Two called.

“What? Over.” Horner asked.

“Train on high left. They’ll descend in ten seconds. Over.”

“Look like a scout group.” Agent Fourteen added. “Looking to find out what the shot was probably. Over.”

“Well keep your wits about you. They may have a back-up group ready to take fire after they have assessed the situation. Over.” Brawn said.

“I can see the leader, over.” Agent Eleven said, pressing himself closer to his gun. His finger hovered on the trigger, viewfinder trained on the leader’s chest.

“Hold fire. Over.” Domenicali shot.

“What?” Agent Two spat, leaning up from his gun to frown. Agent Fourteen looked at him dubiously.

“Hold fire until you are ordered to do so. Over.” Domenicali stressed.

“Closing in on wounded. Over.” Agent Eleven reported. Agent Two ground his teeth. But he couldn’t get a shot on the leader. He was in Agent Eleven’s range. He was powerless.

“I can take him. Over.” Agent Seven said, loading his gun.

“Hold fire, Agent Seven. Over.” Domenicali pressed.

“I’ve got him trained too. Over.” Agent Two said.

“We are holding fire! How many times does that need to be repeated? Over.” Horner exasperated. Agent Two rolled his eyes.

“Wounded is being escorted off the field. Over.” Agent Six commentated.

“I can take three of them down if I shoot now, over.” Agent Two said, finger hovering over the trigger.

“HOLD FUCKING FIRE!” Horner raged.

“Moving away. Over.” Agent Forty-Four said in a confused tone.

“We are letting them leave? Over.” Agent Seven asked.

“Agent Fourteen, move down to cover the entrance. Over.” General Ecclestone’s voice was back, dangerously quiet. Fernando looked down at his arm as someone grabbed it. He frowned at Mark.

“No.” Agent Two said firmly.

“I’m sorry. Are you Agent Fourteen? Over.” Ecclestone said, voice shaking with rage. Mark didn’t let go of Fernando’s arm.

“I need his cover, over.”

“I have ordered him to move downstairs, over.”

“You’ve got a room full of Juniors downstairs. If he leaves his post I’m on my own. Over.”

“Is risky to leave, over.” Fernando muttered. Mark let go of his arm.

“Agent Fourteen, when you are ordered to do something-!” Ecclestone started. But the priority changed.

“-Fuck it! They’re shooting from in front! I’ve got a hit Junior! I need someone taking those guys out! Over!” Agent Twenty-Two gritted. Hell had broken loose. The P-Orsche inexperienced had been sent forwards first, shooting at the walls haphazardly. Fernando had to dive out of the way to miss the shower of bullets headed in his direction as Kimi threw himself on top of Sebastian seconds before a bullet would have cut through his brain.

“Agents advancing behind. Get a sniper on them, over.” Agent Six called. Fernando righted himself and took out two unsuspecting agents easily.

“Seven, One. Report. Over.” Domenicali barked.

“Fine. Both fine, over.” Agent One panted.

“We’re on the inexperienced, over.” Agent Seven added.

“Someone get down to those Juniors and warn them what’s happening, over.” Brawn barked.

“Seven and One are closest, over.” Whitmarsh said. Kimi sent Sebastian a pained look.

“Will be right back.” Kimi promised, pushing his fingers into Sebastian’s soft hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Leave me some for when I get back.” He joked.

“Hurry up then.” Sebastian returned. But there was no humor in his voice. Kimi disappeared into possible carnage and Sebastian prayed that he would be Ok.

“How’s that Junior, Agent Twenty-Two? Over.” Whitmarsh asked.

“Good. Fine. We’re just- Kevin! Watch the-! Fucking hell! Stay close to me!” Agent Twenty-Two fed back to the control room.

“Please confirm the Junior is fine, over.”

“He’s fine, over.” Agent Twenty-Two spat.

“Still fighting? Over.”

“He got a bullet to the arm. Bullet is out and he’s bandaged up. He’s good. Over.”

“Agent Seven, report. Over.” Sebastian shot down his radio at a moment of lull. He just needed to hear Kimi’s voice.

“Agent One-?” Horner started.

“-Fine. Juniors are braced. Will stay here in case the inexperienced get through, over.” Kimi panted. Sebastian’s stomach twisted unpleasantly.

“Hopefully we’ll get them all from here, over.” Agent Forty-Four joked. Sebastian sincerely hoped he was right.

“Specials advancing, over.” Agent Eleven confirmed. Mark tensed.

“Can get a snip on them, over.” Agent Fourteen said.

“What is that? Over.” Agent Eleven said. Mark frowned but Fernando looked confused too.

“Looks like a box… Over.” Fernando said, almost as an after thought.

“Let me see.” Mark said, moving Fernando out the way.

“Have you seen it before?” Fernando asked, watching Mark closely. Mark sat up, shaking his head.

“No… Can you get one of them?”

“Are blocked by the box-thing.” Fernando sighed. Mark hit the wall in frustration.

“Permission to join Agent Seven downstairs, over.” Agent One called.

“No, stay on your post. Over.” Horner returned.

“I’m out of range, can’t get to anyone. Over.”

“Stay there until you can then, Over.”

“Situation is mute here, over.” Agent Seven reported, trying to calm Agent One down.

“Ready to launch Tear Gas, over.” Agent Thirteen called.

“Situation clear. Agent Seven, get the Juniors to apply their masks, over.” Agent Eight confirmed.

“Rodger that, over.” Agent Seven said. Sebastian chewed on his glove nervously.

“Advancing quickly. Agents coming down, five seconds, over.” Agent Six called.

“Go with gas, over.” Boullier nodded.

“Wait! Three seconds. Mask down, over.” Agent Seven called frantically.

“Four seconds. Over.” Agent Six counted.

“Do not have time to wait. Go with Gas, over.” Boullier instructed.

“Come on, Kid, do not want to die! Put it on!” Agent Seven growled. Sebastian held his breath.

“Three seconds until Agents, over.” Agent Six said.

“Name? Tell me your name, damn it!”

“Two, Over.”

“Marcus? Now or never Marcus. Is going to be fine.”

“One, over.”

“Trust me.”

“Go with gas, Over!” Boullier shouter desperately. Sebastian saw the canister fly into the air, spiraling gas. Followed by a second. Then a third. He was too far away to be caught up in the effect but as he moved to take out the now stumbling agents he kicked his mask.

And Kimi’s.

“Kimi! Kimi talk to me!” Sebastian shot down the radio.

“No gas here. Safe, over.” Kimi panted. Sebastian felt his heart restart.

“Tell them to keep their masks on. It might leak through, over.” Brawn ordered.

“Rodger… Over…” Kimi was coughing. Sebastian’s eyes opened wide in fear.

“Fuck.” Agent Forty-Four spat.

“What? What!” Sebastian demanded.

“They’ve got Chlorine pouches. Over.” Forty-Four returned.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW!” Sebastian demanded.

“You can see it!” Forty-Four returned, in a confused tone. “They’re forcing it through the door. Over.”

“Agent Seven, make sure they keep their masks on. Keep them on and everyone will be fine. Over.” Domenicali said firmly.

“Yup…” Kimi’s voice was weak. Sebastian could hear it.

“Let me go down, Over.” Sebastian shot, collecting Kimi’s mask as he pulled on his own.

“Do not leave your post, Agent One. Over.” Horner barked. Sebastian shook his head, pulling on the door.

“Kimi- Agent Seven doesn’t have his mask! Over.” Sebastian returned in a similar tone. He was halfway down the stairs.

“Don’t… Come…” Kimi croaked. Sebastian’s steps got faster.

“I’m nearly there. It’s Ok. I’m nearly there.” Sebastian chanted, more of a way to try and keep himself calm.

“They’re trying to get in, over.” Agent Six called.

“I can’t get the angle to shoot them, over.” Agent Eight returned, slightly panicked.

“Agent One has the best angle, over.” Agent Thirteen said begrudgingly.

“If they get through that door there will be Tear Gas everywhere.” Agent Forty-Four added.

“Kimi?” Sebastian called, moving through the green/yellow fog. He could see the Juniors looking to him, waiting for an order. He could feel the tears stinging in his eyes. “Kimi!” He was searching the floor, gasping desperately at the oxygen the mask provided him with. “KIMI!”

“Seb…” There was a croak by his foot that made him whip his head around. Kimi had a weak hold of his trouser leg. Sebastian dropped to the floor, shoving Kimi’s mask over his face and forcing him to breath in the oxygen. Kimi coughed and spluttered, trying to take the mask off again.

“No, no. You have to keep it on now. Keep it on. You’re going to be Ok.” Sebastian said, stroking a hand through Kimi’s hair. Kimi tried to laugh at him but ended up coughing and heaving instead.

“Seb, is Ok-”

“-No! You’re not going to d- No!” Sebastian yelled desperately, letting the tears run down his face. Kimi cupped his cheek.

“Is fine. Have to help the others.”

“No. I’m staying with you.” Sebastian sniffed, pulling Kimi closer.

“They’re getting in in thirty seconds, over.” Agent Eight reported. Kimi pushed Sebastian off him.

“Go, Seb.”

“Not without you.”

“Twenty-five. Over.” Agent Eight counted. Kimi tried to push Sebastian harder.

“Go!” Sebastian just shook his head.

“Twenty. Over.”

“Get Marcus…” Kimi breathed. Sebastian frowned.

“Who?”

“MARCUS!” Kimi yelled, pushing himself into a coughing fit. A blonde haired boy rushed towards them, nodding. Kimi fiddled with his radio. “Take this. Are in charge of these… These guys. Take orders from this.” Kimi thrust the radio into the boy’s hands. “Sebastian go back up.”

“Not without you.” Sebastian spat definitely.

“Fifteen, over.” Agent Eight pressed.

“Take me up with you.” Kimi sighed. Sebastian got to his feet, scooping Kimi up. But it would take too much time. Marcus grabbed Kimi’s arm.

“Have got him. Go, go! Will bring him up.” Marcus assured. Sebastian shook his head.

“No, I-”

“Ten, Over.”

“GO!” Marcus yelled desperately. Sebastian dashed up the stairs, pressing his radio to his ear, desperate to hear some sort of sign of Kimi. He sat at his gun, throwing his mask to the floor, hands shaking terrible as Agent Eight began his countdown from five. “Charles! Come and help! No! Keep mask on! Keep mask on! Come help quick!”

Sebastian launched his bullets towards the P-Orsche agents causing them to stammer from the door. Just as they were about to make the first incision with the spin blade.

“I’m drawing them back. Over.” Sebastian panted, head too fuzzed to make any of his shots count.

“In range now, Over.” Agent Fourteen called.

“Also in range, over. Open fire boys.” Agent Twenty-Two agreed.

“Firing, over.” Agent Two added.

“Nice job, Agent One. Let’s not leave it so late next time. Over.” Brawn’s voice pooled down the radio. Sebastian didn’t care.

“Kimi?”

“Is coming, Agent One.” Marcus’ voice called. “Almost there, over.”

“Get straight back down once he is safe. Thank you Agent Nine. Over.” Domenicali sighed, feeling a little more relaxed.

“Nice shot, Kevin.” Agent Twenty-Two smiled. “Yeah, first kill. Don’t bask in it too much, kid. Head down and onwards.”

“On the left, Agent Six. Over.” Agent Forty-Four said.

“Thanks, Over.” Agent Six returned. Sebastian fell from his post when the door opened and Marcus and Charles staggered in with a semi-conscious Kimi. Sebastian supported him up.

“Thank you.” Sebastian breathed, pulling Kimi close. Marcus and Charles just nodded.

“Are welcome.” Marcus breathed before pulling Charles back down the stairs, closing the door behind them. Sebastian tore his radio off as he laid Kimi down in his arms.

“What can I do? Tell me what to do?”

“Have already done enough…” Kimi sighed contently. Sebastian shook his desperately, getting his eyes to open again.

“Don’t you dare die on me now, Kimi Räikkönen.” Sebastian bit. Kimi smiled weakly.

“Do not think you will let me.”

“Damn right.” Sebastian said. Kimi blinked up at him slowly.

“Am not good.”

“Don’t say that. It’s fine. You’re fine. We’ll get you to medical.” Kimi coughed in response.

“Hard to breath…”

“Kimi!” Sebastian pulled his shoulder desperately, fresh tears springing in his eyes.

“Am glad…. Glad am with you… Now…”

“And you’ll be with me tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that.” Sebastian nodded, not caring that his tears were splashing onto Kimi’s mask. Kimi dried his cheek with a delicate thumb.

“Do not cry, Sebi…”

“Then don’t leave me.” Sebastian whispered back. Kimi gave Sebastian a soft smile before his eyes fluttered closed.

Sebastian shook his shoulder.

Nothing.

“Kimi?”

More shakes.

More nothing.

“Kimi.” Sebastian’s voice was desperate but hard.

This wasn’t fair.

How could Kimi do this to him?

“KIMI!” Sebastian pleaded, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks as he shook the Finn senseless.

But still nothing.

He grabbed for his radio.

“…Nothing else is coming, over?” Brawn frowned.

“No, is as if they are waiting. Over.” Agent Thirteen returned.

“I need someone from medical, now!” Sebastian begged, not caring how much his voice shook. Not caring what anyone assumed.

“Agent One? What’s wrong, over?” Horner asked calmly. But now wasn’t the time for calm.

“Anyone, please! Someone from medical! I can’t…”

“Alright, Agent One. Are sending Agent Twenty-Seven over now. Over.” Sebastian was sort of relieved to hear Domenicali’s voice. But as soon as he heard the message he dropped the radio, curling around Kimi and pulling him close. He could feel the flutter of his lungs. The slow beat of his heart. _Just hang in there a little longer, Kimi. Please. For me. Help is coming._ Sebastian held onto Kimi so tightly he sobbed harder when he couldn’t feel those sighs of life anymore.

“Woah, did you feel that, over?” Agent Twenty-Two asked as he shivered involuntary.

“Yes. I feel it too, over.” Agent Fourteen confirmed.

“Same. Over.” Agent Eleven nodded.

“What was it, over?” Agent Thirteen asked.

“No idea, over.” Agent Six shrugged.

“What was it, over?” Whitmarsh asked.

“Like a shiver, over.” Agent Forty-Four answered.

“Made me feel cold, over.” Agent Eight added.

“But is gone now, yes, over?” Agent Eleven asked.

“Was only short. Over.” Agent Fourteen said.

“If you look at that box… Did it ripple? Over?” Agent Six asked suddenly.

“Kevin just said that, over.” Agent Twenty-Two frowned.

“The box rippled, over?” Agent Fourteen asked, looking through his sniper at it. It looked the same. All of the specials were still hiding behind it.

“That’s what I thought I saw, over.” Agent Six nodded.

“Weird….” Fernando frowned. “Why would a box want to cause us to shiver? What use is that, over?”

“Did you feel it in control room? Over.” Agent thirteen asked.

“I think so. Just a moment ago, Over?” Boullier asked.

“Yeah.” Fernando said, still frowning. He sat up, completely confused. “I wonder if-” Fernando’s words were stopped when he turned to look at Mark. Mark who was not by his gun but in the corner of the room, clutching his head with his face screwed in agony. Fernando’s eyes widened as he dashed to Mark’s side, taking his face in his hands.

“Agent Fourteen? Over.” Agent Forty-Four asked.

“Mark?” Fernando said desperately. Mark shook his head, his radio already discarded by his gun.

“Get… Out…” Mark bit, forcing his voice to cooperate. Fernando didn’t know what to do.

“What is happening?”

“You need to get out of here…” Mark panted, his eyes still squinted shut as he pressed his hands tightly over his ears.

“Mark, am not leaving you like this…” Fernando’s voice broke as the lump got higher in his throat. This was horrible. Watching Mark writher in pain and not be able to do anything about it. The tears welled in his eyes.

“I… Can’t…”

“Cannot what?”

“My… My head…”

“Tell me what to do.” Fernando pleaded, trying to force Mark’s hands away from his head.

“What’s going on, Agent Fourteen? Over.” Domenicali asked.

There was no response.

“Agent Fourteen? Over.” Domenicali tried again. His colleagues in the control room exchanged a look.

Still no reply.

“Agent Fourteen, do you copy, Over?” Domenicali’s voice was getting desperate. They already had one agent out of action. He couldn’t afford to loose the second.

“Agent Fourteen!”

“Fernando, come on mate.” Agent Twenty-Two stepped in. Kevin didn’t like the look of worry on Jenson’s face, the way he seemed a little lost. “Or Mark, someone. Over.”

“What’s happening?” Kevin asked. Jenson didn’t answer. Instead he frowned deeply.

But Fernando wasn’t going to respond. How could he when Mark had trashed his radio, ripping it from his head as he smashed him against the concrete wall? And how could he even get to Mark’s when Mark had such a tight grip on Fernando’s throat lights were popping in his eyes?

“Ma-” Fernando choked, trying to breath. Mark gritted his teeth together.

“You know one thing I didn’t understand? I didn’t understand why they let me go. I didn’t understand how they could just be done with me like that.” Mark spat as Fernando frantically clawed at his hands.

“I ca- Bre-”

“I know you can’t.” Mark shot, bringing himself closer to Fernando. “You don’t think I know what I’m capable of?” Mark laughed as he threw Fernando across the room. Fernando landed in a pile on the floor, gasping for breath as he tried to push himself up. “They let me go because I was supposed to do this. It all makes sense now.” Mark laughed, moving over to Fernando again. Fernando reached for Mark’s radio.

“W… Why…” Fernando spluttered, fingers inches away from the radio.

“Why what? Speak up, Fernando,” Mark gripped the back of his shirt forcing him to his feet. The wall came into contact with Fernando’s face a lot faster than he thought it would. His head throbbed. “I can’t hear you.” Mark purred into his ear.

“Why… Why Kill m- Me?” Fernando forced. Mark spun him around. Fernando could see the conflicting emotions in his face. Mark couldn’t answer that question. Mark didn’t know the answer. “L-l-love me…” Fernando tried. Mark punched him in the face, letting his head smack back on the concrete as he crumpled to the floor.

“Stop talking.” Mark ordered. Fernando shook his head.

“You love me…. Cannot do this…”

“I can.” Mark bit, grabbing Fernando’s collar. “I know I can.” He threw Fernando across the room again, but this time the Spaniard fell on top of his radio.

“Help…” Fernando croaked into the microphone. Mark forced him onto his back, kicking and stamping down on his hand until the device was in pieces in Fernando’s hand, the shards of plastic cutting into his fragile skin. Mark hoisted him back to his feet, pushing him up against the wall once more as Fernando found his voice. “Why?”

“Why? I just…” Mark opened his mouth to speak until it went dry. Fernando pushed a blood-covered hand into his hair.

“Ignore them. Whatever they do to you ignore them. Am yours, Mark. Will never abandon you.” Fernando promised, persuading Mark’s lips to his. Mark kissed him passionately, attacking his mouth with his tongue and teeth. He caught Fernando under his arse, lifting him up against his body. Fernando got lost in the moment, tussling Mark’s hair and wrapping his legs around Mark’s body. And Mark took the moment. He moved Fernando to the box they had been firing from, pushing him through. Fernando yelled out as he slipped through the box, the wind whipping through his hair. But he didn’t fall. He didn’t fall nearly as far as he should have done.

“Jenson…” Kevin gasped, grabbing Jenson’s hand. Jenson broke away from the conversation trying to understand Fernando’s radio call to frown at the young boy. Kevin just pointed across the way and Jenson could see him. He could see Fernando hanging off the side of the window, the only thing stopping him from falling being Mark.

“Fuck…” Jenson shot, his eyes wide.

“You know how many times I’ve thought about this, Fernando?” Mark yelled joyously as the wind whipped between them. Fernando grabbed desperately at the building trying to remain stable. Trying not to look down. “Like right now I could leave you hanging there until they start shooting at you, or I could let go and watch you fall to the ground, watch you fall into a cloud of Tear Gas and Chlorine, watch your body react to the attack of the harsh chemicals.”

“Mark!” Fernando screamed as Mark let him slide slightly through his fingers.

“The P-Orsche want me to do this. You’ve got no idea what they really did to me. No fucking idea.”

“Pull me up!”

“You don’t get it do you, Fernando.” Mark shook his head, laughing at Fernando’s naivety. “I’m going to kill you.” Fernando’s eyes widened in fear. He knew, he just knew, if he could get Mark to think about why he could stop this. He could help.

“Are not.” Fernando yelled, gripping into the brickwork.

“I am, Fernando.” Mark barked back.

“You cannot.” Fernando returned. Anger forced Mark to haul Fernando back inside the building. He pressed Fernando against the window, pressing himself into Fernando’s back.

“So many way I’ve thought of killing you…” Mark purred, running his hands all over Fernando’s body. Fernando tried to focus, to force his body not to react. But it was Mark. He was programmed to react to Mark. He could feel his head tipping backwards as Mark ran his palms over his navel, dipping every so slightly lower. “So many ways…”

“You do not want to…” Fernando tried.

“You’ve got to try harder than that, Fernando.” Mark laughed at his pathetic attempt. “They’ve fucking messed up my head.”

“Please, Mark. Do not know what to say…” Fernando’s hand crept down his leg, reaching for his pistol. If he could shoot Mark in the shoulder or leg or something he could wound him enough to make this stop.

“I was going to strangle you, then drown you, then thrown you from this building… Everything is too merciful…” Mark sniggered. “I want this to take as long as possible. I want to watch the life slowly drain from your eyes…” Mark hissed. Fernando felt cold. He wanted out of this situation. He wanted his Mark back. The Mark that didn’t do this. “And I’m going to. Right here. Right now.”

“Who the fuck is closest? Over.” Domenicali bit.

“I can’t get passed because of the Chlorine, over.” Agent Six breathed. He couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed.

“We’re all stuck this side, over.” Agent Thirteen said angrily.

“I’m not, over.” Agent Eleven piped up. Domenicali breathed again.

“Alright, leave the Juniors. Be careful. Get in there and assess the situation, over.” Whitmarsh ordered.

“I’m going now, over.” Agent Eleven said.

Everyone held their breath.

“I think I’ve found the perfect way, Fernando.” Mark smiled happily, holding Fernando against the wall. Fernando swallowed uncomfortably. He nearly had his hold on his gun. If he could just get out of this position in front of Mark… “I’ll finish what I started.”

Fernando gasped for a breath as Mark’s hands found his side.

“Still not healed yet, right?” Mark said, looking at Fernando.

Fernando just nodded.

“Does it still hurt?”

Fernando nodded again.

Mark smiled against Fernando’s neck.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Not…” Fernando breathed. Mark didn’t wait for a response. He pushed his fingers harshly into Fernando’s side, feeling around for that tear in his flesh to rip it open again.

Problem was, there was a metal protector in the way.

Mark frowned down at it.

“Was always going to take a precautionary, Mark. Especially if they know where am hurt.” Fernando shrugged, sending his elbow back into Mark’s gut. Mark staggered backwards, giving Fernando enough room to spin round and punch his face. Mark fell to the floor and Fernando climbed on top of him, pinning his arms down. Mark was panting hard, thrashing his legs around trying to unseat Fernando. But Fernando had a firm hold. “Tell me why you want to kill me!”

“Fernando! Get off me!”

“Tell me why you want to kill me!” Fernando barked again. Mark gasped for breath as he tensed his fists, still not able to move.

“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!”

“Tell me why you would kill me!”

“I have to!”

“Why!”

“Fernando-!” The tears were pouring down Mark’s face. The inner turmoil of having to justify his instincts. The P-Orsche had done well, but not well enough. Fernando had found a flaw. And he was abusing it.

“You have to tell me. You give me one good reason and I let you kill me right now.” Fernando panted, holding Mark tightly. Mark moaned in frustration trying to make sense of anything in his head. It was a flash of colours. Nothing was working. Nothing made sense. Mark felt like his head was going to explode.

“Agent Thirteen. You have one shot. Over.” Boullier said harshly. Pastor took a deep breath, closing his eyes and calming himself, positioning the missile launcher. He could do this. This was why he was chosen for a field team.

“Are you sure this will help? Over.” Agent Eleven panted as he dashed up the stairs.

“Look, we all felt the shiver and Mark never commented. It was after the shiver he went wild. It can be the only thing big enough to create that. Over.” Agent Six said, eyes locked on the box.

“Fire, now, Agent Thirteen. Over.” Boullier instructed. Pastor looked to Romain.

“Is clear, go.”

And then suddenly it was all a craze of moments.

Pastor sent the missile towards the box.

Mark threw Fernando off him.

Sergio was five steps from the shut door.

Fernando reached for his gun.

The missile continued on it’s propelled pathway.

Mark forced Fernando’s hand, sending the bullet aimed for his shoulder through the roof.

Pastor got off the floor, waiting for the impact.

Mark forced Fernando to the floor, bending his arm back and obtaining the gun.

Everyone waited with baited breath.

Sergio’s hand was on the door handle.

Mark aimed the gun between Fernando’s eyes.

The missile propelled into the box.

Mark released the safety on the gun.

The box exploded.

Everyone cheered, a second slightly bigger shiver rushing over them.

Sergio pushed through the door.

There was the sound of a gunshot.

Followed by a second.

Jenson’s world stopped.

He dove for his radio.

“Agent Eleven? Agent Eleven, copy? I heard gunshots. What happened?”

Jenson’s voice was desperate.

He was only thinking the worst.

Kevin touched his shoulder, leaving the five other Juniors to celebrate in success.

There was no response on the radio.

“Agent Eleven?”

Jenson tried again.

He was met with silence.

The celebrations all stopped.

There was silence everywhere.

Even as the P-Orsche retreated.

Nothing but quiet.

Jenson wasn’t breathing.

No one made a sound.

No one wanted to break the silence.

Then the radio cracked.

“Not, errh, not Agent Eleven.”

The voice was broken.

Jenson clutched his radio tighter.

“Fernando?”

“Yeah… Yup… Is Fernando…”

Jenson could tell he was distracted.

Jenson swallowed dryly.

“I heard gunshots.”

Jenson’s voice broke.

“Yeah…”

Fernando’s voice broke.

“Is Mark…?”

Jenson couldn’t finish his question.

Fernando closed his eyes.

Tears ran down both cheeks.

“No…”

Fernando’s voice was just a whisper.

He opened his eyes and looked at the carnage around him.

Sergio was still in the doorway.

His blood running down the stairs.

From the two shot wounds.

One in his chest.

Probably not fatal.

One in between his eyes.

The death shot.

“Agent…” Fernando cleared his throat. “Agent Eleven is down…”

The radio clattered noisily to the floor as Fernando dropped it.

He looked at his feet.

Looked at where Mark was laying.

Mark wasn’t dead. Mark had just collapsed. Probably because the box had been exploded. But Mark had shot Sergio. Twice, once more for good measure, before he had collapsed. Fernando’s pistol was discarded on the floor where it had fallen from Mark’s limp grip as he collapsed.

But Mark had killed Sergio.

Sergio was dead.

Fernando sat on the floor and took one of Mark’s hands as he looked at Sergio.

And cried.

Cried until someone came and found him.

Daniel couldn’t believe the sight.


	11. I Never Thought I'd See The Day We Ended, But Here We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tell me would you kill to save a life?   
>  Tell me would you kill to prove you're right?    
>  Crash crash burn, let it all burn,    
>  This Hurricane's chasing us all underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive tissue warning for this one… 
> 
> Bit of time hopping as well, hope it's not too confusing :S
> 
> *14*  
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mark was sat in a seat in front of the horseshoe of tables, his wrists securely fastened behind his back. It had been three days since the P-Orsche attack. He could see them all looking at him, judging him. He knew why he was here and they knew he did to. In fact, if he somehow got out of this it will be a miracle. The Lieutenants were sat on the right side of the horseshoe, the Majors filling the left, and directly in front of him the rest of them sat: Captain Schumacher, Major Lauda, Captain Häikkinen, Captain Prost, etcetera. Completely central and opposite him was General Ecclestone. And there was a glint in his eyes that gave Mark all he needed to know.

He was fucked.

There was no way out of this.

\- - -

Daniel looked down at Fernando once he had taken in the scene. The gun. The body. The blood. He could see signs of a struggle on Fernando’s face but the Spaniard seemed zoned out. Tears were pouring down his cheeks as one hand gripped tightly to one of Mark’s and the other stroked through his hair. Daniel didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t something you were taught in training. _Ok, so when one of our agents kills a co-agent and you are first on the scene and find a third agent who seems inconsolable…_ Daniel shook his head.

“Fernando?” Daniel tried tentatively. The Spaniard blinked and Daniel was sure his grip on Mark’s hand tightened. Daniel took a step forwards trying not to disrespectfully step over Sergio. He reached a hand out to Fernando. “Come on, mate. We need to go.”

“No.” Fernando croaked, his voice broken from crying so hard.

“Fernando, you’re being stupid.” Daniel insisted. He knew others were on their way. He knew they were trying to clear the Chlorine but once that was done they would be up here. And if they found Fernando like this they would haul him in for questioning. Daniel wouldn’t let them. Not whilst Fernando was in this state. He needed to calm down. “Come on.” Daniel waved his hand insistently towards Fernando. Fernando just dragged Mark onto his lap, caressing his face as he looked down into Mark’s soft features, completely ignoring Daniel.

 _Mark had been complaining he couldn’t sleep._ Fernando mused. _Now he can dream of happy things._

“Fernando.” Daniel crossed the room, grabbing Fernando under his arms and pulling him up. It was counter-productive. Fernando screamed, lashing out as more tears poured down his face. Startled by the sudden reaction Daniel let him go and Fernando dove back to Mark, covering the Australian’s torso with his body. Sobbing. Daniel rubbed between his shoulders.

“Leave us alone!” Fernando yelled, voice muffled by Mark. Daniel looked down sympathetically.

“Fernando, people are coming. If they come up and find you here they’ll ask you to explain.”

“Am not leaving him.” Fernando bit, gripping to Mark tighter. Fernando could still feel his lungs emptying and filling. Could still feel him breathing. As long as he could still feel Mark was alive everything would be fine.

But Daniel was pulling on his shoulder.

“You’ve got to. They’ll take him down to Medical. Fernando, please.” Daniel became more insistent. Fernando looked round, glaring at him.

“You do not understand, Daniel. If they take him… Is over…” Fernando dropped his head causing Daniel to frown. “Will not let them take him from me.”

“Unless you want to face questions now we have to go.” Daniel returned, grabbing Fernando’s shoulder. Mark’s hand slipped from his grasp as Daniel hauled him up. But this time, Fernando didn’t yelled in resistance, he yelled in pain. “Fernando?” Daniel’s eyes were wide and panicked as the Spaniard fell into him, using him as support. Fernando gripped tightly into Daniel’s shoulder. “Fernan-?”

“-Get Mark.” Fernando breathed, clutching at his side. The adrenaline had worn off now and Fernando was met with a crippling pain in his side as Daniel had hoisted him up.

“Fernando, we have to-”

“-Will carry him myself.” Fernando gritted, pushing from Daniel’s hold. But he just fell forwards, his hand inches from Mark’s, one clutching desperately at his side and forcing himself not to vomit.

“Fernando!” Daniel panicked, pulling Fernando back into a sitting position. Fernando gritted his teeth before launching forwards for Mark again. But it was no use. He was in too much pain. There was no way he could carry Mark feeling like this and Daniel couldn’t carry him because he had to carry Fernando. Tears stung in the Spaniard’s eyes at the though of leaving his lover here. He physically couldn’t do it. “Come on now, mate. We need to go.” Daniel pleaded, somehow getting Fernando to his feet.

“Mark-” Fernando tried. Daniel pushed him forwards.

“-Is fine, Fernando. He’s fine.”

“No, go back…”

“We need to get you to medical, Fernando.” Daniel pressed, shoving Fernando out of the door. Fernando caught one last glimpse of Mark before he was whipped round the corner. They had taken three, slow, steps before they both heard the chaos of the others moving up towards them. Daniel grabbed Fernando, swinging him over his shoulder and dashed back up the stairs, turning right at the top and peeling down the corridor. He would have let Fernando walk, but the Spaniard had found a new wave of energy and determination to get back to Mark. With Fernando injured Daniel easily overpowered him. “Calm down, Fernando.” Daniel panted, placing the Spaniard on the floor. Fernando tired to push himself to his feet but Daniel held him still.

“They will kill him.” Fernando spat, trying once again to get up.

“No they won’t.”

“Daniel he kills-” Fernando shook his head, more tears running down his cheeks. Daniel lifted the bottom of Fernando shirt.

“That’s why they’ll want answers. They’ll want him to explain.”

“Then they kill him.” Fernando spat. Daniel just sighed, shuffling closer to Fernando’s side as he slipped his bag off his back. Fernando frowned at him, confused. “What are you doing?”

“Checking you out.” Daniel said, smiling a little at the obvious answer to his actions as he examined Fernando’s side. Daniel placed a light finger to the dent in the metal protector and Fernando winced in pain. Daniel nodded to himself, dropping Fernando’s shirt.

“I need to take you to medi-”

“-No.” Fernando shot, lifting his shirt and examining the damage himself. The metal was dented a little, yes, from where Mark had pushed into it but it couldn’t be that bad. Fernando grabbed one edge and pulled the metal slightly from his skin.

“Stop.” Daniel said, grabbing his wrist. Fernando laughed at him.

“Am fine.”

“Fernando, you’re in pain if I just touch it. I’ll take you to medical. They’ll know what to do.”

“Am fine.” Fernando pushed, removing Daniel’s hand from him. With one fluid pull the metal came away, clattering to the floor as Fernando withered in pain. Daniel caught hold of his shoulders, eyes wide in fear as he tried to work out what to do. Fernando moved his hand away from his side only to be met with his own fresh, sticky blood. Daniel snatched up his first aid kit, pressing a bandage over the wound. Fernando sighed a little in relief, but Daniel was already on his feet. “W-Where are you-?” Fernando asked with a weak grip on Daniel’s ankle.

“I’m going to medical. If you won’t go to them I’ll bring them to you.”

“No…”

“Fernando you’re bleeding! I’m not just going to sit here and watch-” Daniel looked down at Fernando’s hand, the bandage that was almost soaked through already. “No.”

“Please, do not go to medical…” Fernando begged.

“I’ve got no choice, Fernando.”

“Get… Get Nico…” Fernando breathed.

“Nico?”

“Nico… Hulkenberg… He treats me before… Knows about this…”

“Alright…” Daniel considered it for a moment more before nodding. “Ok, I’ll be right back.”

“Am not going anywhere.” Fernando smiled weakly. Daniel turned in the doorframe to look back at him.

“You better not be.”

“Daniel?” Fernando called as the Australian disappeared. Daniel’s head reappeared. “Do not tell Andrea.” Daniel didn’t ask why, but when the Italian appeared twenty minutes later Fernando rolled his eyes very openly. Andrea tried to stand in front of him, folding his arm in an annoyed manner but his worry for his agent crumbled the acts. He was by Fernando’s side in a second.

“Let me look.” Andrea said as Fernando pressed his hand tighter to his side. Daniel burst through the door shortly afterwards.

“`I’m sorry, Fernando. He just kept hounding me and-”

“-Is this finding Hulkenberg?” Andrea shot hotly over his shoulder. Daniel swallowed nervously before disappearing.

“Should be nicer to him.” Fernando commented. Andrea glared back at him.

“He should not be hiding you away. And you should not be encouraging him to.”

“Am fine, Andrea.” Fernando smiled. Andrea shook his head.

“Then let me see.” The smile fell off Fernando’s face.

“Is nothing.”

“Fernando.”

“Am fine.”

“Have blood on your hand.”

“Andrea do-” But Andrea had pulled his hand away, holding the bandage in place. The third bandage Fernando had had to use. The others were discarded beside him, stained a deep red colour. The colour washed out of Andrea’s face but in a blink of an eye the Italian was rooting around in Daniel’s first aid kit.

“Who does this to you?” Andrea spat. Fernando shook his head.

“I-”

“-We put the cover on to protect you.” Andrea gritted.

“It got compressed…” Fernando muttered as Andrea dropped a range of different colour pill trays and bottles on the floor.

“By what?” Andrea looked at Fernando but Fernando just dropped his head.

“Do not know…” Fernando muttered guiltily. Andrea felt his heart sink. Because, even though Fernando didn’t know he knew, he knew. And there was only one person he would cover up for willingly like this. One person he would truly put his life on the line for.

So Mark had done this too him.

\- - -

“So, Mr Webber, formally known as Agent Two,” Ecclestone started, getting to his feet. Mark’s eyes drifted around the huge room and settled on the bench just behind the Lieutenants hold a handful of agents. Daniel, Kevin, Nico Rosberg and Jenson. Four witnesses. Mark was confused as to why Fernando wasn’t there, but considering the conversation they had had before Mark came in here he wasn’t overly surprised. “You are here today, in front of the high court, to decide on the consequence for your actions in the attack on Thursday. Do you have anything to add at this point?”

Mark just stared at the bench of his friends. His colleagues he had worked with for twelve years. He sighed and shook his head. Kevin reached for Jenson’s hand, something Mark didn’t miss. His stomach flipped at the thought of Jenson getting into the mess he had got himself into. He couldn’t sit by and watch Jenson make the same mistakes he did. But there was no opportunity to talk to Jenson. He could send him a coded message but that all depended on whether Jenson would understand or not.

“Captain Schumacher?” Ecclestone smiled, looking to his right. Schumacher stood, clearing his throat as he opened a file. Ecclestone sat down, pressing his fingertips together and surveying Mark over the top of them.

“Charges as follows: defying orders from a superior, defying orders, defying a superior, corrupting order to another agent, moving with own moral purpose (against the Elite), attacking another agent, grievous bodily harm to another agent, killing another agent, working against the Elite in favour of attacker (in this case P-Orsche).” Schumacher fiddled with the edge of the paper nervously, looking over at Ecclestone. Ecclestone gave a small nod.

“Thank you, Captain.” Schumacher sat down. “And what do you plead to these accusations, Webber?” Mark sat and held Ecclestone’s eye contact with an emotionless expression that would challenge Kimi Räikkönen.

“My agent has no plead, General. He refuses to comment on the matters that are to be discussed.” Simon muttered from behind Mark. Ecclestone’s eyes flitted to him.

“You don’t have an agent, Rennie.” Ecclestone bit. Simon dropped back. “But, it is to our understanding that Webber has no plea?”

“Yes, Sir.” Simon muttered. Ecclestone nodded, getting to his feet.

“Then maybe we should assess the facts.” Ecclestone grinned. Mark’s attention had fallen back to Jenson and Kevin. Kevin was looking at Jenson with such a sorrow-filled expression it broke Mark’s heart. He could see the determination of Kevin to try and hold onto Jenson but Jenson was looking at the floor. “After the P-Orsche had retreated, you were found, unconscious at your post with Agent Eleven dead in the doorway.” Mark swallowed dryly at Ecclestone’s bluntness. He hadn’t meant to kill Sergio. If he was honest, the logistics of the moment were a bit of a blur to him. “Can you give us any more detail about that moment?”

Mark still said nothing.

“Let’s hear from some people who can then.” Ecclestone sighed, gesturing towards the four agents sitting on the bench. Kevin’s hand fell from Jenson’s but Jenson wrapped an arm subtly around his side, pulling him closer. Kevin seemed to relax a bit.

“Agent Six, please tell the Majors what you saw.” Nico stood, looking between Mark and the eleven stone hard faces he was confronted with. He swallowed dryly.

\- - -

Fernando was impressed with the new medicine SAU had developed from the P-Orsche stuff. It really did work a wonder. It had been a couple of days since the attack and the wound on his side was almost gone. Just the bit that would scar remained. They had already told him they would get rid of it but Fernando had refused point blank. This was Mark and his new scar and he would protect it with his life.

Nico hadn’t managed to come, apparently already tied up doing something, so Esteban had appeared. They had been treating Fernando in his room as the Spaniard refused to go down to medical. It had been Esteban who had the idea of retrying the P-Orsche modified stuff and with little to loose Fernando had just nodded. Apparently whatever Mark had done to it had helped a lot. What wouldn’t initially heal healed within seconds. Rather that the padded bandage Fernando had been wearing now it was only small. And there was barely any pain anymore.

But after being stuck in his room for a couple of days he was dying to see Mark and make sure he was Ok.

It was only a short journey to Mark’s room from his but Andrea had insisted on staying by his side. That was annoying because with Andrea there he couldn’t be completely relaxed around Mark. It just wasn’t possible. Approaching the door, Fernando turned on his Mission-Engineer.

“Can you give us a moment?” Fernando asked. Andrea’s head rushed back to when he had given Mark and Fernando a moment before. Andrea shook his head.

“Sorry.”

“Five seconds?” Fernando bargained. Andrea rolled his eyes.

“Will count.” He sighed. Fernando’s face visibly brightened. Maybe it wasn’t so bad Mark and he was together; it seemed to have a massively positive effect on the Spaniard. “One,” Andrea started and, still smiling, Fernando dove into the room.

It didn’t last long; the room was empty.

“Fernando?” Andrea asked as Fernando storming out of the room interrupted his counting. Fernando didn’t stop or look back. His eyes had locked on Daniel and before Andrea could stop him Fernando had the Australian pinned to the wall.

“Wha-?” Daniel tried.

“-WHERE IS HE?” Fernando raged. Daniel tried to retreat but Fernando had him in a tight hold.

“Who?” Daniel whimpered slightly. Andrea pulled on Fernando’s hands.

“MARK! WHERE IS HE?”

“Up in White.” Daniel breathed. Fernando let go of him, not even waiting to watch him slide down the wall as he stormed towards the stairs.

“Sorry, Daniel.” Andrea called as he dashed after the raging Spaniard. Fernando took the steps two at a time, reaching White miles ahead of Andrea. He caught Felipe as the Brazilian frowned round at him.

“Fernando, calm-” Felipe tried, but Fernando was already dragging him down the corridor.

“-Take me to him.” Fernando demanded.

“Let go of me.” Felipe requested calmly. Valtteri appeared from his office, frowning at the commotion. The frown disappeared as he took in Fernando. Fernando huffed as he let the Brazilian go.

“This way, Fernando.” Valtteri ushered as Felipe brushed his shirt down. Fernando waited by the door to the room as Valtteri opened the one to the observation room. “Fernan-”

“-Let me go in.” Fernando growled, folding his arms. Suzie frowned at Valtteri from within the observation room.

“Everything Ok, Sir?” Suzie asked.

“Come out for a moment please, Suzie.” Valtteri sighed. Fernando frowned at him as Felipe fiddled with his keys. Suzie looked beyond confused.

“Did I do something wrong?” Suzie asked, slightly sheepishly. Felipe shook his head.

“Not at all.” The Brazilian smiled, unlocking the door. He looked to Fernando. “Five minutes.”

“Huh?”

“Have got five minute unattended.” Felipe said, pushing open the door. Fernando didn’t wait to be told twice. The door was shut on Valtteri explaining to Suzie what was going on. Mark smiled over at Fernando.

“You know, you’d think they’d understand by now that I can’t sleep.” Mark joked, pointing to the bed. This was a lot smaller that the first room Mark had been placed in. Fernando didn’t like it. He took Mark’s face in his hands.

“Why are you in here?” Fernando breathed. Mark resentfully pulled Fernando’s hands from his cheeks.

“Fer, we’re not alone.”

“Are.” Fernando nodded, taking Mark’s face again. Mark frowned.

“Why?”

“Felipe gives us five minutes.” Fernando sat in Mark’s lap, pulling the Australian closer. Mark’s hands found their usual place on Fernando’s hips easily.

“That’s very kind of him.” Mark smiled.

“Tell me why you are here.” Fernando asked again, brushing the hair from Mark’s face. Mark didn’t answer. Instead he brought Fernando and his lips together, dominating the Spaniard’s mouth as if it was the last time. Fernando moaned against him, his fingers tangling through Mark’s hair as he circled his hip subtly, forcing the pleasured sounds out of Mark. When Mark had to fall away, panting, Fernando continued to rotate his hips, watching the Australian’s head fall back in pleasure.

“Don’t stop…” Mark whispered, relishing it all as if he’d never get to do this again. It made Fernando stop.

“Why are you acting like this?” Fernando’s voice was full of worry. Mark cupped his face gently, tracing the lines, taking Fernando in completely.

“Fernando…” Mark sighed, so much love in his voice. He didn’t want to talk about things that were happening, he wanted to relish his stolen time with Fernando. But Fernando wasn’t having it.

“Why are you here?” Mark sighed at Fernando’s question, pulling Fernando closer to him.

“They’re putting me up on trial tomorrow.” Mark sighed, lifting Fernando’s shirt and drawing the muscles on his navel. Fernando gripped tightly to his shoulder.

“What?”

“For killing… For my actions in the attack.” Mark sighed. His fingers traced the bandage on Fernando’s side.

“But-”

“-Come on, Fernando, they’d be stupid not to.” Mark scoffed. Fernando caught his face.

“I will not loose you. Not again.” There were genuine tears in Fernando’s eyes. Mark didn’t want to see them fall. “Will come in with you.”

“No.” Mark said sharply. “I don’t want you in there. They’ll make you talk, try and turn you against me.”

“Would not, Mark. Will not say anything.”

“Fernando, no.” Mark shook his head. “Stay away.”

“Then I will see you after. When they let you go.”

“I’m not sure, mate. It’s not looking good.” Mark had to tell him the truth. He wanted Fernando prepared for the worst.

But he wasn’t prepared for Fernando to attack his mouth like the world was ending.

His hips were rotating faster as they shared breathy moans. Mark’s fingers were digging into Fernando’s shoulders, trying to force the friction between them. But it wasn’t working. Fernando didn’t want it like that anyway. He dragged Mark back onto the bed, lying on his back and moving Mark on top of him.

“I see you have a new bandage.” Mark muttered between kisses, lifting Fernando’s shirt. Fernando nodded, grasping and withering at the intimacy between Mark and him, desperately clinging onto it so it never ended.  

“You… You made it heal…” Fernando panted. Mark frowned at him.

“I did what?”

“Whatever you do to it now the medicine works. Is nearly healed.” As if to be proven wrong, Mark pulled the bandage from Fernando’s skin, happy to see it looking almost normal. But Fernando was right; it would scar. Mark set a kiss to it before wrapping it back up.

“I’m glad.” Mark smiled genuinely. Fernando grabbed his shoulder as he moved to climb off him.

“Where are you going?” Fernando frowned.

“Mate, we’ve had five minutes. We’re not alone anymore.” Mark said sadly, looking longingly at Fernando’s exposed stomach. Fernando gripped his collar tightly, pulling him down and attacking his mouth. “Fer-!”

“-Do not care…” Fernando panted, forcing Mark’s hips onto his. Mark moaned loudly, his hips automatically rubbing against Fernando’s like a response. But Fernando stopped him, pressing their hips together firmly.

“Fer…” Mark panted, needing to move. Fernando pulled him closer, until his lips were against Mark’s ear.

“Fuck me.” Mark was stunned by the request.

“What if-?”

“-Do not care.” Fernando purred, throwing the covers over them and undoing Mark’s trousers.

“What about Fernando?” Suzie asked, hand on the door handle to the observation room.

“Just leave him in there for a while. They like to just talk.” Valtteri smiled before leading Felipe back towards the White floor. Suzie shrugged, moving back into the observation room.

That was automatically slammed shut with Suzie still on the outside.

Her eyes were wide at what she had just witnessed.

“Suzie?” Andrea asked, slightly out of breath from chasing down Fernando. Suzie’s eyes slowing focused on the Italian. “Fernando in here?” Andrea took her hand off the handle, snapping her back to reality.

“Don’t!” Suzie stammered, pushing herself between Andrea and the door. Andrea recognised the look in her eyes. His eyes drifted to the room door.

“Fernando is in there with Mark?” Andrea asked, not pointing at the observation room, but the main room. Suzie nodded slowly, sliding down to the floor. Andrea smiled lightly, sitting next to her. “Is Ok. I was shocked too.” Suzie frowned round at him.

“Wait… You mean…?”

“A couple of weeks ago. When Mark was in the other room.”

“Woah…” Suzie was trying to take it all in but she could barely understand what she had seen. What she had heard…

“Give then a little while, then I will check is safe.” Andrea chuckled.

“You’re Ok with this?” Andrea just shrugged, retying his shoelace. “But it’s not allowed.”

“Which is why you will not mention it to anyone.” Andrea said sternly, looking at Suzie. “Am sure people will be interested to know about how you are married to Major Wolff.” Andrea threatened. Suzie just nodded.

She understood what Andrea was saying, and out of the two couples being discovered, she assumed it would be worse for her.

\- - -

“I didn’t see much,” Nico started in a small voice. He looked at his hands. “Just, we were trying to work out what was going on, Fernan- I mean, _Agent Fourteen_ , had suddenly disappeared off the radio. And then suddenly…” Nico paused, looking at Mark. Mark gave him nothing. “Suddenly Fernando was hanging off the side of the building…”

“And did you see who was stopping him?” Major Montezemolo asked. Nico shook his head.

“He was hanging for a bit and then he was pulled up.”

“But surely that could have been anyone.” Jenson inputted. Everyone frowned round at him.

“Agent Twenty-Two?” Major Dennis asked, concerned. Jenson got to his feet.

“No one knows who threw Fernando out of the window. Surely some P-Orsche agent could have thrown him and Mark could have caught-”

“-There was no threat breach into the building, Agent Twenty-Two.” Captain Häikkinen said sharply. “The only two recorded people in the time Agent Fourteen is reported to have been thrown from the building were himself and Webber.”

“Where is Agent Fourteen?” Major Wolff asked. “Surely he would be the best witness in the case?”

“Agent Fourteen is unable to attend currently.” Domenicali piped up. That was something he hadn’t understood. As far as he was concerned Fernando was absolutely fine. But Andrea had come to see him the morning before Mark’s trial and told him Fernando was in no fit state to attend. Ecclestone chuckled lightly to himself, seeing Montezemolo’s uncomfortable posture.

“Agent Twenty, you witnessed the same thing as Agent Six?” Dennis asked with a stern look to his newest Agent. They were planning another Lewis after the loss of Sergio and with Jenson’s words of praise Dennis had found it difficult to find a reason to say no. 

“Yes, Sir.” Kevin muttered, still seated.

“Is that all?” Major Lopez scoffed. Kevin blushed.

“Yes, Sir.” Jenson had told him not to mention what he had heard. That was one sure way to get Mark into trouble.

“What was the point in dragging him in then?” Lopez asked Dennis. Dennis just shook his head.

“Agent Twenty-Two, you were the first to radio contact to the room after Agent Eleven’s death.” Captain Prost stated. Jenson just nodded. “And what did he say?”

“Nothing much.” Jenson shrugged. “He confirmed what had happened.” Jenson sat down and pressed his lips together, relaxing a little when Kevin’s fingers found his. Captain Prost frowned.

“That is all?”

“Yes, Captain.” Lieutenant Boullier nodded. Jenson still couldn’t get used to him in the light silver shirt of the Laren Elite. He’d always seen Boullier in black. “I can confirm that was the message received. The only message.”

“And how is that supposed to help us with deciding Webber’s fate?” Mateschitz asked gruffly. Mark laughed a breath to himself. Of course Mateschitz wouldn’t help him out here. Now he was a tarnished agent. Mateschitz would do whatever he could to get rid of him. And Mark was very aware of it.

“Agent Three?” Ecclestone encouraged. Daniel looked between Ecclestone and Mark, opening and closing his mouth. Horner turned around and gave his agent a pointed look. Daniel dropped his head as he slowly rose to his feet.

“Yes, Sir?”

“You accompanied Agent Fourteen from the room, yes? Something you definitely should not have done.” Ecclestone raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, Sir.” Daniel muttered.

“So how about you redeem yourself and tell us what happened? What was the first thing you saw?”

“The room…” Daniel muttered. Horner was glaring at him and he could feel it. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t frame Fernando or Mark like that. Fernando’s actions simply pointed to a banned offense. One with critical consequences. It would only make things worse for Mark. “Fernando was a bit hurt so I got him out of there.”

“That’s the only reason?” Mateschitz pressed. Daniel shrugged, still looking at the floor.

“I was thinking of saving the only… I was focused on saving Agent Fourteen, sir.”

“And what about when you appeared without him, demanding someone retrieve Agent Twenty-Seven?” Montezemolo pushed. Daniel frowned, finally looking up.

“What about it?”

“You were demanding for medical attention.”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Fernando was hurt. I needed someone’s help.” Daniel said firmly. Montezemolo sat forwards.

“You were out on the field with medical supplies. These weren’t efficient enough?”

“I needed someone with Fernando’s medical history.” Daniel sent back.

“I’m not sure how this is helping Webber’s case.” Lopez shot down the table. Montezemolo sat back.

“Agent Three, was Agent Fourteen resistant when you tried to pull him from the room with Webber and Agent Eleven?” Ecclestone exasperated. Daniel swallowed, looking over at Mark.

“I… It’s a bit of a blur, Sir.” Daniel lied. Mark frowned at him but Daniel shook his head. “I don’t quite remember.”

“Interesting.” Ecclestone nodded, getting to his feet. He began to pace around the table. “He didn’t have even a small urge to stay by Webber’s side?”

“I don’t remember, sir.” Daniel said in a small voice.

“That’s a bad memory you’ve got yourself then, Agent Three. How can we be sure you’re going to remember orders?”

“General Ecclestone, Agent Three is the best agent for our team. He’s focused, determined and one hundred per cent dedicated to this program.” Horner said calmly.

“But he can’t remember simple things?”

“He was in a high pressured situation.” Horner justified.

“Aren’t all missions? What if he forgets what we tell him? Forgets whose side he’s on?”

“This is highly sceptical, Ecclestone.” Mateschitz stated. “We have chosen Agent Three because we believe he is ready for this. It was a high-pressured situation that is not likely to happen again. And next time Agent Three will be ready for it.”

“This is, again, deterring from the point.” Lopez pointed out. Ecclestone nodded, gesturing for Daniel to sit down. Daniel worried his lips as he re-took his seat, Nico supportively patting his shoulder.

Had he just dropped Mark in it?

\- - -

“I want to come with you.” Fernando demanded, folding his arms. Andrea ran a hand over his face.

“You cannot.” He stated.

“I want to.”

“Cannot. Mark has requested to see me. You have to stay here.”

“This is not fair!” Fernando yelled, throwing his arms down like a toddler. Andrea pushed him back until he was sitting on the bed.

“Unless you want to make an appearance in Mark’s trial you stay here. Are supposed to be resting from your wound!”

“Is not fair. Want to see him.”

“Will be back soon. Will tell him you are fine.” Andrea nodded, patting Fernando’s shoulder. Fernando worried his fingernail between his teeth as Andrea disappeared. Anything could happen in Mark’s trial today. Fernando wanted to lock him in his room and ban the Elite from ever seeing him again.

Andrea moved through to the White floor without being stopped. Felipe greeted him at the entrance, looking more than comfortable in his new uniform. Though, not at all comfortable with the situation.

“Is through here.” Felipe pointed, walking Andrea as far as he could. When Felipe stopped Andrea frowned at the Brazilian.

“Am going in alone?”

“This was his request. He wants three minutes with you alone with no one supervising.” Felipe shrugged.

“And you are fine with this?”

“For sure, not ideal, but we do what we must.”

“Have you on a timer. Will come in at the end of the three minutes to get you out.” Valtteri said, opening the door for Andrea. Andrea thought that might have something to do with what happened with Fernando yesterday. Mark had been unsupervised with the Spaniard for about forty minutes. It made him smile as he walked into the room. Mark stood up quickly when Andrea appeared, his eyes surveying the mirror on the wall behind him.

“We’re alone?” Mark asked, his voice slightly horse from not being used. Andrea just nodded.

“Fernando wanted to-”

“-I need you to do something for me.” Mark said quickly. His voice desperate. Andrea watched him as he threw open the desk drawer, pulling out a file.

“Ok…?” Andrea said sceptically. Mark held the file close to his chest.

“We’re alone, yeah?”

“Yes, Mark.”

Mark just nodded.

“If something happens to me today. Something so that I don’t get to see Fernando again-”

“-Mark, do not think like this-”

“-I need you to give him this.” Mark spoke over the Italian, passing him the file. Andrea went to open it. “No!” Mark pressed his palm firmly on top. “Fernando. Only Fernando.”

“What is it?”

“Something I need him to read if I can’t see him again.” Mark’s eyes were wide with fear. Andrea clapped his shoulder.

“This will be fine, Mark. Will see him again.”

“I can’t guarantee that.” Mark sighed, pushing Andrea’s shoulder off him. “I need you to tell me you will give him that if I can’t.”

“Can go get him now, Mark.” Andrea nodded. “Wants to see you.” Mark just shook his head. With Ecclestone having cameras everywhere he couldn’t tell Fernando anything. Not anymore.

“Tell me you’ll give him that.”

“Can go and get-”

“-Tell me.” Mark gritted. Andrea obviously wasn’t picking up his desperation.

“Alright Mark. You have my word.”

“Promise?”

“I promise I will give it to him, Mark.” Mark sank back in his chair, sighing a breath of relief.

“Thank you.”

“That’s your three, Mark.” Valtteri’s voice filled the little room.

“Thank you, Val.” Mark sighed, feeling much better about his situation. Andrea frowned at him but the door opened and Felipe appeared.

“Need you to come now, Andrea.” Felipe said softly. Andrea just nodded, catching Mark shoulder with the hand that wasn’t holding the file.

“Everything will be Ok, Mark.” Andrea assured. Mark just nodded.

“Agent Stella.” A voice said as Andrea stared descending the stairs. Andrea turned, swallowing nervously, as he was face to face with Major Lauda. Niki took the file from Andrea’s hands. “You need to forget about this.” Niki assured, turning on his heels and heading back up the stairs. Andrea felt crushed. One thing Mark had requested and he couldn’t even do that.

He just crossed his fingers for the trial… Everything would be Ok.

\- - -

“Is this really necessary?” Andrea spat, arms folded and annoyed. He had been dragged away from Fernando to come in here and answer questions? He was furious. Fernando was a complete wreck. He needed someone there for him to tell him this would all be Ok. Andrea exasperated noisily, showing his impatience and ignoring the stern look Domenicali was sending his way.

“Yes, Agent Stella. We understand you have spent most time with Agent Fourteen since the attack.” Major Berger said calmly. Andrea nodded, still angrily frowning around. Mark was on the edge of his seat. He knew Andrea had been dragged away from Fernando; it just made sense. So the Italian’s annoyance made Mark think of the worst. He wanted to talk to Andrea but there wasn’t going to be the chance. His fists clenched angrily.

“Can you tell us when you first saw Agent Fourteen?” Major Williams asked.

“Just after the attack. Agent Three came demanding for Agent Twenty-Seven for Agent Fourteen and I asked him where Agent Fourteen was. He directed me to him. Then I found him.” Andrea rushed, easily leaving out just how much he had to threaten Daniel to make him give up Fernando’s location. Major Williams made a note on the paper in front of him.

“And how badly hurt was he when you found him? What were his injuries?”

“Nothing too bad.” Andrea shrugged. “He is fine now, just resting. He sends his apologies for not being able to attend.” Andrea looked at Mark as he spoke, letting the Australian know Fernando was, still, physically fine. Mark nodded his thanks.

“Ecclestone, you charge him here for GBH on a fellow agent, this agent in question being Agent Fourteen?” Williams asked. Ecclestone just nodded. Frank had been in this game as long as he had. Frank just never needed the power Bernie did. But Ecclestone didn’t trust Frank. Frank understood too much. “If what Agent Stella says is true, that Agent Fourteen’s wounds were not as bad as we thought then how is this GBH?” Williams asked. Mark and Andrea exchanged a look. Was this there silver lining? Was it possible Mark could get out of this?

“If you check our records we only had three patients admitted on the attack date, none of which were Agent Fourteen.” Major Sauber stated, frowning at Ecclestone.

“So what is this, you are angling for a severer punishment for Webber?” Major Mallya frowned.

“Gentlemen, please remember that Webber killed an agent. In cold blood.” Ecclestone pushed.

“We are very aware of that, Ecclestone, but maybe that should be the sole focus of this trial? It appears these other charges could be… Exaggerated.” Williams said softly. He remembered back to the Montoya trial when the server injury of eight other agents was placed on his head, leading to his dispatch. They had later discovered that the charges had been too harsh and, although he was partially to blame, dispatch was too hard of a punishment for the crime. Frank still kept in contact though, tracking him down and spending time with him until he remembered enough to become a highly successful agent in the NAS fleet in America.

Ecclestone had a bad habit of exaggerating charges if he wanted certain results and it intrigued Williams more as to why Ecclestone wanted Webber out of here.

“If that is all you need me for…?” Andrea asked hopefully. Ecclestone got to his feet.

“Agent Stella, did you see the crime scene at all?” Ecclestone asked. Andrea sighed.

“Sir, my agent and I were in the middle of a very important-”

“-It can wait.” Ecclestone waved away. “Did you see the crime scene?”

“Briefly.” Andrea spat.

“What did you see of Agent Eleven?”

“I did not. Just past the scene to get to Agent Fourteen.”

“When you reached Agent Fourteen, did he seem distressed?” Mallya asked. Andrea frowned.

“Distressed?”

“Excuse me for asking, but I just want to rule out the possibility that Agent Fourteen was involved in Agent Eleven’s murder.”

“This is ridiculous!” Domenicali raged, getting to his feet. “Agent Fourteen had nothing to do with this!”

“Calm down, Stefano.” Montezemolo warned. Domenicali exhaled his fury as he fell heavily back into his chair.

“Agent Fourteen was not distressed.” Andrea answered calmly. He looked to Mark; he had found his opportunity. “He was sorry. And worried. But he was fine. He was just nervous, waiting.” Andrea told Mark. Mark gripped onto his every word. Andrea tried his best to tell Mark how Fernando was whilst making it sound like he was answering the question. “He wanted to know how Agent Two was. And he was just waiting. Did not say much.”

“Sorry?” Berger asked, confused. Mark looked at the floor blinking the tears from his eyes. He would never be able to repay Andrea. Never. He wanted to thank the Italian but there was no chance. So he just looked up at Andrea, locking into his eye contact and hoping his could covey his thanks with his eyes. Andrea gave a small nod.

“Was thinking a lot about Agent Two. You will understand they are close friends and the last time Agent Fourteen had seen Agent two he was unconscious.”

“Of course.” Berger nodded. But Mark frowned. There was something in Andrea’s voice.

“Yes, they are close friends, aren’t they.” Ecclestone said, moving round the room with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Everyone knows this, Ecclestone.” Williams said in a bored tone. “There is nothing wrong with that. All of the agents are close. That’s how this program works.”

“Yes, Frank, you are right.” Ecclestone nodded. “But Agent Fourteen and Webber just seem… Closer to me. Wouldn’t you agree, Agent Stella?” Mark was confused. He could see where this was going but he couldn’t stop it. That would be it. A complete violation of an important rule. The Major’s hands would be forced. Mark sent Andrea a pleading look but Andrea just shrugged.

“No. Are close. Everyone sees this.”

“Come now, Agent Stella.” Ecclestone chuckled. “You have worked with Agent Fourteen for all of his time as a field agent. You know him best.” Ecclestone winked at Mark.

“Are just friends as far as I see.” Andrea repeated. Ecclestone folded his arms, facing the Italian.

“Is there something you are hiding from us, Agent Stella?” Ecclestone asked calmly. It suddenly hit Mark like a ton of bricks. Andrea knew. Andrea knew about Fernando and him. Mark didn’t know how Andrea had found out, but the look Andrea sent him let him know he knew. Major Lauda looked between Ecclestone, Andrea and Mark. Knowing but not saying. His thought flew to the file Mark had given Andrea for Fernando. The one locked in his desk that no one but the three of them knew existed. Niki just watched closely, eyes calculating.

“No, Sir.” Andrea lied confidently. Mark was shocked; Andrea was covering for them. He kept his eyes glued on Andrea but Andrea was holding Ecclestone’s eye.

“Are you sure about that?” Ecclestone pressed.

“General, please, our agents do not keep secrets from us.” Domenicali said, back on his feet. Ecclestone ignored him.

“Well?”

“I need to get back to my agent, General.” Andrea said firmly. Ecclestone smirked at him.

“If there is nothing else you have to add you may leave.” Ecclestone shrugged. Sending one more look to Mark, promising he’d take care of Fernando, Andrea left. Domenicali sat down.

“Agent Three,” Ecclestone said, turning his gaze on Daniel. Daniel stood sheepishly. “When you were observing Webber did he ask much for Agent Fourteen?”

“I-”

“-Or did Agent Fourteen find you when you were off duty and ask after Webber?”

“What relevance is this, Ecclestone?” Williams barked. Niki sat nervously. He watched Mark closely. Mark could sense the end coming.

“Or when you tried to take Agent Fourteen from Webber after the accused killed Agent Eleven were you met with resistance!” Ecclestone barked, bearing down on Daniel. Daniel fought to find his voice.

“General, this really isn’t why you called my agent in.” Horner said, gripping Ecclestone’s arm. Ecclestone brushed him off, continuing to pace around the room.

“I only ask, Agent Three,” Ecclestone said, calming himself, as Horner gestured for Daniel to sit down. “Because a small sense of desperation from Agent Fourteen would be highly explainable.” Daniel frowned at Ecclestone along with the rest of the Agents and the Lieutenants.

“Explainable?” Domenicali asked.

“When Webber first went missing, how long did it take us to get Agent Fourteen out of his room? And how many times did Agent Fourteen visit Webber’s room whilst he was vacant from it? And how many times has Agent Fourteen been in the company of Webber since his arrival back to the Elite?” Ecclestone said. Everyone in the room knew what he was implying. Jenson frowned at Mark as Ecclestone approached the Australian.

“They are just friends, General.” Domenicali tried, repeating what Andrea had already said too much, not daring to look at Montezemolo. What would it look like if he had let this all happen right under his nose?

“Well, Webber? Are you just friends?” Ecclestone asked lightly. Mark glared at him. “Come come now, Webber,” Ecclestone muttered, dropping his voice so only Mark could hear. “You know I have the evidence in my possession to swing this trial whatever way I want.” And at that moment Mark knew it was all over. Ecclestone would push everyone until the worst was gifted. Mark continued to glare at him.

“I want to see him again.” Mark muttered. Ecclestone smiled at him.

“In exchange for your cooperation? No, Webber, we tried that before.”

“I won’t help unless you let me see him again. One more time and I’ll tell you whatever you want.” Mark gritted. Everyone was confused by the silent conversation between Mark and Ecclestone.

“So you’re willing to talk?” Ecclestone called to the room, nodding his head. Mark sighed, dropping his eyes. At least they had one more time.

“Yes.” Mark muttered to the floor.

“You’ll have to be louder, Webber, we can’t hear you.” Ecclestone taunted. And Mark would have happily strangled him if he had his hands free. Kill the entire room and rushed to find Fernando.

“Yes.” Mark bit; his eyes set to kill, locked on Ecclestone. Everyone lent forwards in anticipation.

“So you can answer Domenicali’s question then.” Ecclestone smiled, returning to his seat. Mark swallowed dryly.

“Which was?”

“Are Agent Fourteen and yourself simply _just friends_?” Ecclestone smiled, sitting down. Mark exhaled.

_Sorry, Fernando._

“No. No we’re not.”

If Kevin hadn’t have been holding Jenson’s hand he would have fallen off the bench.

\- - -

“I want to see him.”

“You can’t.”

“This isn’t fair!”

“I’m sorry. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’m his friend! I have rights!”

“Please. I will call security.”

A palm was slammed on the desk.

“I’m not leaving this spot until you let me see him.”

“Then I’m sorry, sir.”

She sighed sadly as the man was dragged away from her desk, kicking and screaming, desperately trying to reach his friend.

\- - -

“How long has it been going on?” Williams asked calmly, looking only at Mark. Mark wanted to bite his tongue but Ecclestone would let him see Fernando again if he cooperated. He looked up at the man sitting opposite him; silent now the trial was going his way. _I should have killed you in your office. Killed you when I had the chance._

“A while.” Mark grunted. Jenson couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Nico was whispering his shock to himself beside him as Kevin’s fingers constantly threatened to slip from his. Jenson held him tighter. Daniel was not at all shocked. He was sure he had seen what Jean-Eric and he used to have in Mark and Fernando when he had been observing him.

“Can you specify that time?” Agent Lopez asked. Mark wasn’t sure if he had already known or not. Everyone had been pretty shocked at the revelation but Montezemolo just seemed bored, Mateschitz looking annoyed but unsurprised. It just re-enforced Mark’s theory that some of them were in on how this Elite was really run.

“About ten years, I guess…” Mark shrugged. Horner looked like he was about to spit blood.

“Surely Agent Fourteen can be partially blamed for this?” Horner shot. Domenicali glared at him.

“Of course you would blame our agent.” Domenicali snaked. “Your agents are not so perfect, Christian.”

“Neither are yours, Stefano.” Horner bit.

“Gentlemen-” Wolff held his hand up. But Mark spoke over him.

“-Fernando had nothing to do with this.” Mark said sharply. Ecclestone raised an eyebrow at him. But Mark wouldn’t do it. He would sign his own death warranty, but not Fernando’s. “It was me. All me. I made him do everything.”

“Everything?” Ecclestone asked. Mark didn’t like his tone. It seemed Ecclestone could easily incriminate Fernando in this. He thought about that picture from the roof.

“Everything. This has nothing to do with him. I made him do everything.”

“How did you make him?” Berger asked, studying Mark’s desperation. Mark swallowed, looking over at him.

“I just did, Ok? This isn’t him. I made us break the rule. It was my decision. He didn’t want to…. I told him we could hide. That no one ever needed to know.” It was a half lie. Mark and Fernando had initially got together when they were in base elites. The rules weren’t so harsh then so it was easy to make it work. As long as they didn’t wave it under the authorities noses they were fine. When they moved up it got harder. They would have canned it but they had already been together for too long. They were too in love.

They just couldn’t give it up.

Niki shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. This was all starting to remind him too much of James. Their trial when they had been discovered. How James took the blame for everything. Said he had drugged Niki into breaking that damned rule. Niki’s heart had broken that day. James had made him promise before they went in he wouldn’t say anything. He had pleaded with them as James was dragged off. Told them it was all him. But James had been too good. James had planted the lie and Niki’s silence perfectly. They all just believed it was a contamination of James’ drug.

“So, not only have you killed an agent, you have gone against the Elite for personal gain and corrupted another agent.” So similar charges. Apart from James didn’t kill anyone. “Is this sounding familiar to anyone else?” Ecclestone laughed lightly. Niki wanted to leave.

“You… This isn’t to do with him, Ok? He doesn’t deserve anything. It was all me.” Mark assured, his eyes scanning the room desperately.

“Mr Webber, this is your trial. Agent Fourteen is not on trial. He is safe. He is clear.” Williams said, feeling physically pained. Mark’s love and protection was clear for Fernando.

“But, it does, finalise the punishment.” Ecclestone pressed, looking at his Majors. As much as they wanted to, none of them could argue. Rules were rules. And a combination of everything Mark had done really left one option. Mark swallowed nervously, watching them all hold their tongues.

He looked over to the Lieutenants, memorising all of their faces. Memorising the way they each looked at him. Some disappointed, some proud maybe. He locked eyes with Horner, seeing the pain. Yes, they had a replacement for him, and Daniel was going to do just fine, but Mark and Horner went back. Horner had risked a lot to get Mark into the Bull Elite. Something that had, luckily, paid off. Then he looked at Domenicali. And although the Italian was annoyed there was sadness in his eyes. Maybe he realised that this would damage Fernando too. Maybe he realised that even thought Fernando wasn’t being punished for breaking the rule, he actually was. Indirectly. And that he would have to deal with that from this point on. Maybe Domenicali really knew about the two of them all along, but decided to leave it as it was because of how strong it made the team.

He must have known. Red had had Fernando’s every move on file since he started at the Elite thirteen years ago...

His eyes then drifted to the other agents. Jenson, Nico, Kevin, Daniel. How it would be them who told the rest of the Elite what happened to Mark and why. It had been publically announced now. It was Elite knowledge. Fernando and he would be used as an example. So every agent would be told. He looked at Kevin, looking so desperately at Jenson with tears in his eyes. They all knew. They all knew what was going to happen. Kevin was already in too deep and maybe Jenson knew that. Already Jenson’s pain was Kevin’s pain. He could still see their hands linked. He could still see Kevin trying to make sure Jenson didn’t fade away.

Daniel looked like he was going to argue. Call on the injustice of the decision. Nico’s hand on his thigh kept him seated, and maybe there was nothing romantic about the touch but right now Daniel looked like he was on the verge of breaking. Nico’s touch was holding him together.

Nico was looking at Mark, tears splashed onto his cheeks. They had worked together in White before Horner had offered Mark the chance of better things. Nico had been aware of Fernando and his relationship at the time. Jokes had been passed, comments made. Nico had always claimed he wanted what Mark had with Fernando. Mark just hoped he was still some sort of a role model to the German and that his punishment for this would be enough of a deterrent.

But Jenson… Mark couldn’t look at Jenson. The Brit was torn between screaming and shouting to breaking into a thousands shards on the flood, sobbing his heart out. This couldn’t be happening. Jenson was shaking his head. Mark’s words about looking after Fernando if anything ever happened to him were cycling in his head. Was this what Mark had meant? Had Mark known this was going to happen? Jenson could only remember how distant Fernando had been without Mark.

None of it was fair.

“All of those in favour of permanent termination of Mark Webber, former Bull Elite Agent?” Ecclestone asked, toying the gavel in his fingers. Mark watched as, almost in slow motion, each Major raised his arm.

“No…” Jenson muttered, shaking his head. Kevin gripped tightly to him, wanting so badly to be able to comfort him more. Nico’s eyes were wide, the lump in his throat set in place. Daniel couldn’t speak, fury pressing his lips together.

“All those against?” Ecclestone said. Mark closed his eyes exhaling as it set in. What was about to happen set in. He felt the tears rising in his eyes.

“All stand for the verdict.” Captain Schumacher declared. Everyone stood, Valtteri and Felipe appearing at Mark’s side to hold him still. Mark opened his eyes, glaring at Ecclestone.

“I declare Mark Webber guilty of the amended charges held against him: killing a fellow agent, corrupting an agent against the defined regulations of the Elite (direct breach of section four of the field contract) and corruption of a fellow agent to comply to the will of the accused, and announce you subject to permanent termination, effective immediately.” The solidary clap of the gavel on its base ended Ecclestone’s verdict. Mark was hauled from the room, but he was glaring at Ecclestone.

“We had a deal!” Mark spat as Valtteri and Felipe tried to move him from the room. Ecclestone sat calmly.

“Deals are often broken, Mr Webber. You’ll be fully away of that.”

“You fucker! We had a deal!” Mark screamed as more hands grasped at him, dragging him from the room.

“What deal is this?” Williams asked, getting to his feet. Ecclestone brushed him away.

“An incentive to get the accused talking.” Ecclestone stated proudly.

“YOU TOLD ME I COULD SEE HIM AGAIN! YOU LIED! YOU LIED TO ME!”

“And you lied to us, Webber.” Mateschitz’s stern voice powered over Mark’s shouts. The door slammed behind them as Mark was dragged out, his yells still echoing behind him. Jenson was frozen in shock, unaware Kevin was rubbing between his shoulders softly, soothing words being poured into his ears. Daniel was glaring at Mateschitz. How could he be so heartless? That was his Agent they had just dragged out of here. Mateschitz hadn’t even battered an eyelid.

Everyone turned at the sharp sound of Niki’s chair clattering to the floor. Niki had pushed it away as he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him in the process. Ecclestone sighed.

“He’s a little stressed at the moment.” He explained. “Thank you all for coming. This court is dismissed.” Ecclestone turned his back as the carnage broke loose between the Agents and the Majors, the Lieutenants in the middle trying to calm the situation. Schumacher and Ecclestone left as the arguments raged on.

“Do you want me to end this, Sir?” Schumacher asked as they left the courtroom. Ecclestone smiled, patting Schumacher’s shoulder.

“Let them rage. It will all calm down eventually.” Ecclestone nodded as Schumacher and he took the lift back up to his office.

Ecclestone loved it when he got what he wanted, and his expression wasn’t hiding it.

\- - -

“Fernando-”

“-Will come back here. Whatever their verdict.” Fernando repeated, pacing in front of Andrea. They were still in Mark’s room. Andrea was sitting on the desk, trying to talk some sense into his agent.

“This is silly-”

“-Has to collect his things. Has to come and get them.”

“Fernando, he might not come back here.”

“HE HAS TO!” Fernando barked, catching Andrea’s collar. Andrea could see the fear in Fernando’s eyes. The sheer dread that Andrea could be right. Andrea took Fernando’s shoulder.

“Fernando, are hurting yourself. Let us go and get-”

“-No.” Fernando pushed away from him, recommencing his pacing. “Am not going anywhere.”

When Simon walked in with a box Fernando’s world tumbled.

“I was hoping you weren’t going to be here.” Simon sighed, his eyes still red from crying. Fernando did not take it as a good sign as the Brit pushed past him, opening Mark’s personal drawer. Fernando grabbed his hands.

“What are you doing?” Fernando demanded.

“We need to clear out the room…. For Daniel…”

“Woah.” Andrea caught Fernando before he hit the floor, setting him back on his feet. Fernando gripped the front of Andrea’s shirt tightly.

“No…” Fernando breathed.

“Is he…?” Andrea asked. Simon looked at Fernando before he looked back at Andrea, nodding.

“Effective immediately.” Simon sniffed. Fernando pinned him against the wall.

“Fernando!”

“Where is he?” Fernando demanded, causing Simon to gasp for air as his fingers got tighter around his neck.

“All… Already g-gone…” Simon breathed. Andrea pull Fernando off him.

“Stop this!” Andrea growled. Fernando shoved passed them both, snatching up Mark’s things from the drawer and throwing them in the box.

“Are not having these… Mark needs them…” Fernando spat as the two men watched him, bemused.

“Fernando-”

“-Will take them to him.” Fernando nodded, picking up the box and heading out the room. Simon stood in front of him.

“He’s already gone.” Simon said, more sternly. Fernando shook his head.

“Needs his stuff.”

“Fernando, he’s no longer here.”

“No… No, needs his stuff…” Fernando was looking his grip on the world. Mark couldn’t be gone. Not just like that. No, no, no. Fernando didn’t believe it.

“Fernando-” Andrea tried softer, but the Italian just got the box of Mark’s stuff thrust in his arms as Fernando tore from the room. He was running, not even thinking about who or what he ran into. People sent calls of his name behind him but he ignored them. Every single one.

He burst into the empty courtroom, his panted breath echoing in the grand ceiling. His eyes darted around, head whipped from side to side. They had to be here. Mark had to be here. He ran through the room, tipping tables and chairs and throwing cushions all over the place. His desperation to find Mark making his movements clumsy, a trail of debris in his wake. No, no. The tears were coming now. He could barely breath. But he had to find Mark.

“Fernando?” Jenson tried softly, standing in the doorway. Fernando was a wreck, standing in the middle of the courtroom surrounded by broken objects, upturned tables. Jenson wanted to pull him close, tell him it was going to be Ok. But how could he? How could he tell Fernando all that when he knew what was happening to Mark?

Instead, Jenson opened the last door he saw Mark disappear through.

Fernando was running harder than he had ever run before, his footsteps being echoed by the following pair. Jenson was still with him and that somehow held Fernando together in one piece. He just needed to see Mark, press his lips against the Australian and promise he would never stop loving him.

But the final blow hit him and he couldn’t help but fall to his knees.

Jenson didn’t know what to do.

He wanted to console Fernando.

But he didn’t know if he was allowed.

He pulled the Spaniard into a hug, glad when Fernando gripped back to him tightly.

Sobbing so hard into his shoulder that his body was shaking.

His breath was being gasped for.

But Jenson just looked out at the open doors showing the ebony night sky.

And the three sets of lights driving Mark away from here forever.

Jenson cried too, feeling Ok to fall apart now he had Fernando safe.

_I’ll look after him, Mark. I promise._

\- - -

Mark sat in the car, lips pressed together as he watched the streetlights whip passed them in the dark sky. He was uncomfortable because his hands were still locked behind his back. Horner was next to him with Mateschitz sitting in the front next to the driver. Mark just shook his head, glaring at the sky. After everything he had given to this Elite and they hadn’t even let him say goodbye to Fernando. Mark hated them. Every single one. Horner placed a hand on his shoulder but Mark shrugged it off. He heard Horner sigh. But he didn’t care. He hated them.

He wanted them all dead.

“Nice night for it.” Mateschitz said perkily from the front. “Wouldn’t you say?”

Neither Horner nor Mark answered.

“Very.” The driver commented. Mateschitz smiled at him.

“See, Horner, this is where Marko prevails over you. You get too attached.” Mateschitz sighed, looking out the front window again. Marko smirked, looking into the rear-view mirror at Mark.

“Taking them in for that last time, son?” Marko smiled sadistically. Mark made no sign of responding.

“Just drive, Helmut.” Horner grunted, folding his arms.

When the car eventually stopped Mark refused to move. He made a massive drama about not being able to undo his seatbelt. Marko unclipped the strap and threw Mark to the floor in a frustrated manner after five minutes of the hold up, cutting his lip on the jagged base of the dusty ground. The other two cars opened at the appearance of Mark, leading the way for their occupants to get out and view the show.

“Lovely night.” Ecclestone smiled, inhaling the quiet air deeply. “Cloudless. You’ll be able to see the moon, Webber.” Mark decided he was just going to lie on the ground. If they wanted him somewhere else they were going to have to move him.

“Is he still not talking?” Lopez asked, stepping out of the second car. Three more Majors followed him out as Schumacher and Fabiana got out of Ecclestone’s car.

“No agents thought this would be a nice outing then, Mateschitz?” Ecclestone folded his arms. Mateschitz glared at Horner.

“Agent Three said he was finished with this business.” Horner said calmly, deciding that telling then Daniel felt the Elite could go fuck itself would do more harm than good. “And Agent One was unavailable.”

“Really?” Ecclestone raised an eyebrow. Horner simply nodded. “Keep an eye on Agent One. He’s a good Agent… But he could easily slip.”

“Just like Webber here.” Wolff commented, leaning on the car.

“Are you going to get up, son, or are we dragging you up?” Marko said slowly as if talking to someone incompetent. Mark lay very still.

“Somebody get him up.” Ecclestone ordered. Two sets of rough hands forced Mark to his feet, turning him to face the crowd of Majors. Horner stood sheepishly by the Bull Elite car as Ecclestone approached Mark. “Good to see you again.” Mark spat in his face. There was a shuffled of bodies towards him but Ecclestone held up his hand. “That’s quite alright, thank you.” Ecclestone dabbed his face with a handkerchief. “I think he has the right to do that.”

“You lying, son of a bitch.” Mark bit, trying to force himself out of his human bonds.

“Talking now, are we?” Ecclestone asked lightly. Mark ground his teeth.

“I’ve given you what you fucking wanted. Everything. You’ve got me here. It’s over. Why the fuck couldn’t you let me say goodbye.” Mark snarled, only seeing red. Ecclestone cleaned his glasses before sliding them back up his nose.

“I know you quite well, Webber. You would have told him how this works.” Ecclestone explained. “With nothing left to loose why wouldn’t you?”

“I wanted to say goodbye.” Mark spat. He could just imagine Fernando tearing down the Elite to find him. And there was no possible way Mark could tell him he was too late.

“Here,” Lopez sneered, throwing a small photo towards Mark. Mark watched as it hit his knee, stopping down by his feet, face up, and he was met with Fernando smiling up at him. It was his picture. One Mark had taken and hidden. Mark shook his head. They’d already got his stuff. “Say goodbye.” Lopez cackled. Mark would kill him as soon as he had finished with Ecclestone.

“You should have thought about saying goodbye before you came to the court, Webber.” Dennis shot. “You must have known there was only one way this was going to end for you.”

“That’s the only reason I spoke and you know it. Without my confirmation no one would have believed you.” Mark seethed, glaring at Ecclestone.

“Yes, I did notice everyone covering your arse. Agent Three, Agent Stella-”

“-We will be having words with them both, Sir.” Montezemolo said quietly. Ecclestone chuckled.

“No need to bother. No damage done. They were only looking out for their friends.” Ecclestone smirked at Mark, an evil glint in his eyes. “We’re still where we wanted to end up.”

“I will kill you.” Mark snapped. The hands on him got tighter as he tried to move closer to Ecclestone. Ecclestone just continued to laugh.

“I’m sure you will, Mark. Maybe one day.”

When Mark lurched, he was forced to his knees.

“Let’s just do this, yeah?” Marko panted, tired by the effort of holding Mark back.

“Face him towards the moon.” Ecclestone stated, turning away and returning to his car. Mark was shuffled forwards, but he was glad none of them had noticed him slip the picture of Fernando into his pocket as he scrambled on the floor.

“Can I trust you to stay still, Webber?” Mateschitz purred in his ear. Mark just glared forwards, not giving any of them the satisfaction.

“Alright,” Ecclestone rubbed his hands together as Schumacher presented him with a box. Lifting the lid the shiny silver gun with the wide barrel glistened up at him innocently. A wide barrel for two bullets. Ecclestone took it into his hands. “I’ve waited a long time for this.” Ecclestone smiled, approaching Mark as he loaded the gun. Mark closed his eyes, repeating things over and over in his head, trying to commit them to his memory forever. “I tried to get rid of you once but you came straight back like a good little dog.” Ecclestone clicked the gun into place, flicking off the safety. “Not this time, Webber. I don’t want to see your face again.”

Mark swallowed dryly.

Forcing himself to think of Fernando’s face.

Repeated it over and over.

Each different expression.

In love.

To remember how he felt to his fingers.

“Horner.” Ecclestone snapped, holding out the gun. Christian’s eyes widened in fear. “Let’s put you to use.”

“General, I-”

“-You backed the wrong horse, Horner.” Mateschitz snarled, taking Christian’s shoulder. “You need to set it right.”

“I can’t-”

“-Don’t be a waste of space your whole life, Horner.” Marko smirked.

“If your General orders you to do something you do it.” Mateschitz spat, forcing the gun in Christian’s hand and shoving him forwards. Christian looked down at the back of Mark, wishing he could be anywhere but here. He stepped backwards.

“I can’t.”

“Take one more step away from him, Horner, and I’ll be forced to take action.” Mateschitz said, snapping the safety off his own gun. Christian swallowed harshly.

Shaky breaths.

Shaky steps.

Shaky hands.

He pressed the barrel to the back of Mark’s head.

“Any last words, Webber?” Ecclestone called.

_I love Fernando Alonso._

“Nothing?”

_I will give my life for Fernando Alonso._

“Horner.”

_He is my life, my word and I will protect him until the day I die._

“I’m sorry, Mark.” Christian gasped, tears running down his face.

Mark opened his eyes briefly, looking up at the moon.

Before he screwed them shut.

Thinking of Fernando’s face.

“Horner.”

Ecclestone’s voice was impatient.

Mark thought desperately of Fernando.

Christian’s hand shook.

“For the love of god.”

Mateschitz exasperated.

“Do it!”

Mark thought of Fernando.

Kept his name on the edge of his tongue.

“I’m sorry.”

“Move I’ll do it.”

“Wait!”

“S-sorry…”

The shot ricocheted through the empty space. 

Bouncing of the cars and random trees.

Christian’s eyes were wide.

Hand shaking terribly.

As Mark’s limp body fell forwards.

Smacking down onto the dusty ground.

Two holes in the back of his head.

Right where Christian had shot him.

\- - -

Jenson was still holding Fernando, but now they were seated on his bed. Andrea was by the desk, sorting through the box Simon had left for Fernando. The box Simon and he had packed when Fernando burst out of the room. Fernando had been too grateful for what they had done, snuggling deeply into Mark’s jacket as Jenson held him close. Swapping his pillow for Mark’s on the instant he set his hands on it. Kevin had been there for a while but he understood that this wasn’t his place right now. So he had left Jenson in the capable hands of Andrea, knowing the Italian would make sure they were both alright.

Fernando had randomly shuddered, and both Jenson and he knew what they thought it had meant.

Simon was standing by the door, answering it to anyone who came knocking and normally just sending them away.

“Jenson?” Fernando croaked suddenly, sending three pairs of eyes snapping towards him. Jenson continued rubbing his arm softly.

“Mmm?”

“Stay tonight.” Fernando muttered, closing his eyes. Jenson frowned at Andrea but Andrea just nodded. He knew Fernando would need a second pair of arms tonight. Maybe Jenson was the best man for the job.

“Alright, ma-” Fernando tensed as Jenson almost said the word. Jenson closed his eyes, forcing back the fresh tears. He was being strong for Fernando. When he was alone with Kevin, then he could let them all out. “Sure.”

“Gracias…” Fernando muttered, closing his eyes and burying his hand in Jenson’s shirt.

The moment was broken by Simon.

“I’ve been called upstairs.” Simon muttered, looking down at his personal communicator. Fernando frowned.

“Why?” Andrea asked. Simon swallowed uncomfortably.

“They want Mark’s credentials.” Fernando wasn’t ready to hear his name. He bit back the tears.

“Let me take it.” Fernando said. Jenson held him tighter.

“No, Fernando.”

“Let me go.”

“It’s not sensible and you know that.” Jenson stated. Fernando glared at him.

“What right do you have to tell me what to do?”

“Please, guys, let us not fight.” Andrea said, touching Fernando’s shoulder. Fernando got to his feet, turning to Simon.

“Am at least coming with you.” Fernando stated.

“You look a wreck, Fernando.” Simon said sympathetically. Fernando’s eyes were blotchy and red. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Simon left them and made the incredibly painful journey up to the Bull Elite floor. He knew it was best to keep Fernando away. Fernando was loose it and it wasn’t worth more drama. Too much had happened today. It was enough to put anyone on the edge of an emotional breakdown. Simon knocked twice on Horner’s door, entering on the weak “come in.”

“Lieutenant Horner.” Simon nodded, walking over to his desk. Horner kept his back to him, looking out the window.

“Do you have the documents?” Horner’s voice was weak. Simon frowned a little at that.

“Right here.” He said, going to place them on the desk.

“Burn them.” Horner instructed. Simon frowned.

“Sorry?”

“Burn them.” There was a short pause.

“I thought they had to be filed-”

“-I want them burnt.” Horner snapped, turning on Simon. Simon saw the redness around his eyes. “Can I trust you with that or should I find someone more competent?”

“No, Sir. I’ll take care of it.” Simon said quietly, noticing how on the edge Horner was with his emotions. Horner turned back to the window.

“Thank you.” He sighed. “That’s all.”

Fernando was asleep, somehow, when Simon returned to his room. With Jenson curled tightly around him, as if he was protecting the Spaniard from the world. Simon moved over to Andrea, handing over Mark’s file, trying not to wake the slumbering men.

“Horner doesn’t want it. He wants it burnt.” Simon whispered. Andrea nodded, looking inside the file. “Tell him to take what he wants, what he doesn’t I’ll burn.”

“He may want it all.” Andrea whispered back, placing the file on Fernando’s desk.

“That’s fine.” Simon returned. Andrea patted his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“You can go if you wish. I have this covered.” Andrea whispered softly.

“I’d prefer to stay here…” Simon breathed, tears glistening in his eyes. Andrea just nodded, moving over slightly so Simon could sit down. Simon automatically rested his head on Andrea’s shoulder, letting silent tears run down his face.

It was over.

Mark was never coming back.


	12. The Thing They Told Me I Couldn't Have I Need So Badly Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The promises we made were not enough,   
>  (Never play the game again)   
>  The prayers that we had prayed were like a drug,   
>  (Never gonna hear me out)

Sebastian was still glaring at the woman behind the desk. She may have got him dragged away from the medical unit yesterday by security but he wasn’t leaving. Not until he got a chance to see him. He just had to find a way round her. She wasn’t letting him go through because he had no connection to him, really. And he could hardly say: “I love him! Let me through!” That was very forbidden and would get them both into a heck of a lot of trouble.

Sebastian had seen what had happened to Fernando and Mark.

Sebastian got to his feet as he saw Nico Hulkenberg appear for his lunch break. Nico who was only working with SAU for another month. That worried Sebastian. What if they still needed Nico’s help? Sebastian wasn’t so sure he would trust Adrian with this. Nico sighed, dropping his head as he saw Sebastian waiting, yet again. He tried to walk straight passed his fellow German but Sebastian was on his feet, in step with him in an instant.

“Nico-”

“-Sebastian I still can’t tell you anything.” Nico sighed, turning to face Sebastian.

“Just tell me he’s Ok.”

“He’s Ok.” Nico said before heading back down the corridor. Sebastian frowned.

“Are you serious?”

“It’s a delicate matter, Seb. I really can’t tell you anything.”

“But-”

“-Red have put a confidentiality stamp on this. They won’t even let me tell my supervisors what I’m doing.”

“But he’s OK?” Sebastian pressed. Nico sighed, heading down the stairs.

“I have twenty minutes for my lunch, Seb. I’m going to have to walk and eat. Do you understand how little time I have?”

“Is he breathing? Aided or not aided? There has to be something you can tell me.” Sebastian begged. Nico shook his head.

“I can’t say anything. If you want information you need to talk to Red.” Nico sighed before walking through the stair’s door towards the cafeteria.

“I want to come in and see him.” Sebastian said, as confidently as he could. Nico appeared on the instant, his white coat whipping round the door behind him. He scratched his nose before planting his hands on his hips.

“Ok, Seb. I need you to listen to me now. You can’t come in and see him.” Nico said, grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the cafeteria. “One, that would start a horrible rumour and I don’t want to see anyone else ending like Mark did.” Nico bit, making Sebastian swallow harshly. “Two, I’m under a confidentiality contract, so I can’t tell you or show you anything even if I wanted to. Three, because of that contract he’s not allow any visitors.” Nico threw him down the hallway, making him stumble slightly. “Stop hanging around outside the unit, Seb. I will send security on you.” Nico shot before disappearing to get some food, rubbing his hand over his face in a stressed manner. Sebastian gritted his teeth, clenching his fists as he stormed after Nico.

“Is he awake?” Sebastian demanded. Nico slammed his bottle of apple juice on his tray.

“For the love of God, Seb.” Nico exasperated. Sebastian folded his arms.

“Tell me that, and I’ll leave.” Nico laughed at him.

“You won’t.”

“Try me.”

“I’d give you five minutes before you were back, demanding an update.” Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“So just tell me! You tell me and I’ll stop badgering you.”

“If you want answers ask him.” Nico pointed to Rob, sitting at a table a short distance away with Felipe, laughing about something. “I can’t tell you anything. Sorry.” With that Nico left, paying for his food and starting on his sandwich as he rushed back up to the SAU. Sebastian considered his options for a moment. He could go and ask Rob, but that could add more suspicious and, considering what had recently happened to Mark and Fernando, Sebastian wanted no extra suspicion. If Nico knew that was fine because it could, eventually, persuade his fellow German to let him see him. So that really only left him with pestering Nico until he cracked.

Sebastian bound up the stairs, hearing the door clatter above him from Nico leaving on the SAU floor. He took the stairs two at a time, desperately thinking of everything he had been taught in his training. He had one shot at this, and if he made it in he probably had one chance at seeing him.

He pressed himself against the wall at the top of the stairs on the SAU floor, eyes darting around, ears alert for any sound. Luckily for him Nico had stopped to talk to the woman behind the desk. Probably to tell her to not let Sebastian anywhere near this place. Sebastian took his chance, rushing across the floor and sliding behind the waiting room chairs. He had one chance. He had to follow Nico through the door. And hope Nico didn’t turn back around. Once he was in he was in. Then it got a bit easier.

“Alright, thanks,” Nico said patting the desk. Sebastian watched him from between the two chairs as he headed towards the door. He took a deep breath.

“Oh, Nico?” the woman said as Nico reached for the handle. Nico turned back to her.

“Uh huh.”

“Lieutenant Domenicali wants a meeting soon to discuss Agent Seven’s progress.”

“Ask him if he wants that before or after I’ve stabilised his agent?” Nico shot sarcastically. The woman laughed lightly as Nico shrugged his eyebrows at her, opening the door and disappearing round it. Sebastian almost missed his chance being so distracted by what he had heard. Kimi needed stabilising?

That couldn’t be good…

As the door smacked against the wall, starting on it’s journey back shut, Sebastian sent a quick glance at the receptionist. She was on the phone. Probably to Domenicali. Sebastian dashed across the distance and managed to roll through into the medical unit just as the door shut. He exhaled, pressing himself into the corner of the room and surveyed the area. There were lots of people in white coats moving around with clipboards and stethoscopes. In his dark blue elite shirt Sebastian stood out like a sore thumb. Keeping low, Sebastian shuffled over to the main reception desk and pulled an abandoned lab coat over his shoulders, scooping up the stethoscope and dropping it over his neck. He looked down at the name sewn on the white material.

_SAU A. Sutil._

“Of course.” Sebastian muttered, rolling his eyes. Taking a deep breath and, risking it, Sebastian got to his feet, smoothening the folds down on his obtained coat and moved through the unit. No one stopped him. No one seemed to notice he was out of place. All too busy wrapped up in their own patients and their own problems. Sebastian stopped at the nurse’s station, flicking through the charts in their slots. He had hoped they had been in alphabetical order but it seemed they were just being placed wherever there was a gap. Sebastian exhaled in an annoyed fashion. How the hell was he supposed to find Kimi now?

“Agent Twenty-Seven.” Someone called, making Sebastian duck under the counter of the nurse’s desk. His eyes raked the space, looking for the tall blonde doctor.

“Lieutenant.” Nico nodded. Kaltenborn folded her arms.

“I’m going to need you to tell me exactly what treatments you’re running on Agent Seven.” She stated in a harsh tone. Nico sighed, pushing Kimi’s chart back into the pouch in the wall.

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“You are leaving us in just over a month, Nico. How are we supposed to carry on your treatment if we don’t know what you’re doing?”

“He won’t be here in a month.” Nico said thickly. Sebastian got the horrible feeling that Nico wasn’t sure whether Kimi would be dead or alive in that time.

Either way Nico thought Kimi would be out of hospital in a month.

Which was potentially good news.

“I need you to come with me for a moment.”

“I need to get back to my patient.” Nico pressed, reaching for the door. Kaltenborn took his arm.

“I wasn’t asking. I was telling. You are still my Agent for now, Twenty-Seven. Don’t you forget that.” Kaltenborn began dragging Nico down that hall.

“I can’t tell you anything! I’ve signed a confidentiality contract!” Nico pressed. Sebastian took his chance. As everyone was looking down the hall towards Nico Sebastian moved forwards to Kimi’s room, slipping the chart out of the wall and letting himself inside.

He wasn’t ready for what he saw.

Kimi’s eyes were closed, a tube sticking out of his mouth that Sebastian assumed was keeping him breathing. The machine next to the bed that looked like it had an air pump in it made Sebastian sure of that. But Kimi looked terribly pale. And he was pale anyway. Sebastian pressed a palm to his cheek, shocked when he felt warmth off the Finn’s skin. He knew Kimi wasn’t physically damaged; it was internal. Which potentially made it harder to treat. Sebastian stood at the end of Kimi’s bed, frowning. There was something soothing about the heart monitor machine. Something to constantly let Sebastian know Kimi was still alive.

 _Why does doctor’s handwriting have to be so shit?_ Sebastian scrutinized the squiggles of notes but nothing coherently made sense. Sebastian gave up on it, sliding the chart into the end of Kimi’s bed and leaning on it, never taking his eyes off Kimi’s face. What he would do to have Kimi’s eyes flutter open now.

“Kimi?” Sebastian said softly. He moved to Kimi’s side. “I’m not really sure if you can hear me…” Sebastian scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “But, erm, I just wanted to let you know I’m here.”  Sebastian felt like an idiot. What was he doing? What did he think this would accomplish? Now he just had loads more questions to ask but he couldn’t ask them because that would let Nico know he had been in here. Sebastian sat heavily at Kimi’s side, running his hands through his hair.

“You know how shit this is?” Sebastian asked, staring at the closed blinds. “This isn’t fair, Kimi. You can’t just do this to me… You have to… You have to wake up now. I’m here. I’ve come to see you. You have to call me an idiot and then laugh and me for going to such great lengths.” Sebastian looked at Kimi hopefully but still the air machine pumped on. The heart monitor bleeped away. Sebastian dropped his eyes, taking one of Kimi’s hands in both of his own.

“Don’t die on me, Kimi… Please…” Sebastian was shocked at how quickly his emotions overcame him. He wiped his eyes on the back of his wrist. “You can’t leave me here alone… Not now…” Sebastian lent forwards, catching Kimi’s cheek. He stroked along the Finn’s cheekbone, desperately willing his eyelids to flicker. “I need you, Kimi.” Sebastian whispered, one hand clutching Kimi’s tightly as he, carefully, moved up Kimi’s body. He stopped where they were face to face. His fingers danced through Kimi’s hair. “I love you…” Sebastian whispered before pressing his lips to the corner of Kimi’s mouth. He would have groaned in annoyance that he couldn’t properly kiss the Finn but the heart monitor that had been at a steady pulse suddenly started beeping more insistently. Sebastian frowned round at it, not sure what he had done. He checked Kimi over but nothing seemed different.

“Please, I can’t tell you anymore.” Nico’s muffled voice sounded through the wall. Sebastian panicked, diving under the bed just as Nico entered the room. The door closed with a snap as Nico moved around Kimi’s bed. Sebastian could only see his white trainers move around him, the edge of his grey scrubs brushing the top of them, covering half the shoe. “What are you trying to do, eh?” Nico asked Kimi. There was a click and a flash of torchlight to Sebastian’s left that told him Nico was checking his pupils. “What’s with the sudden rush?” Nico frowned. Sebastian covered his mouth with his hand. Could it have been him? Could he have been the reason Kimi’s heart rate increased?

“Seb was asking after you again today.” Nico sighed, taking a seat next to Kimi. Sebastian watched as his feet disappeared, being rested up on the edge of Kimi’s bed. “But I couldn’t tell him anything.” There was a click of a pen and a scratch of paper. “I want to, believe me. Even if part of me just wants to tell him to get him off my back.” Sebastian had to stifle his small laugh. “But Domenicali’s not put me in an easy situation… You know, if you get better real quick then this goes away. You can get out of here and Seb can go back to annoying you instead of me.”

 _He’s probably relishing in the sleep._ Sebastian thought.

“Still no change…” Nico muttered, still frowning, as he tapped his pen on the edge of the clipboard. “What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve drained your lungs, cleared your lungs, and had a neurological scan that’s come back negative. In all honestly, Kimi, you should be awake. And you should not need that breathing apparatus anymore. You’re not even on any sedation. There is nothing medically wrong with you…” Sebastian could tell this was killing Nico. So much so the SAU Agent got to his feet, shining the torch in Kimi’s eyes again. “But you’re unresponsive… It’s as if-”

Sebastian’s eyes widened when Nico suddenly stopped talking. Panic settled into him and he desperately wanted to climb out from under the bed and demanded to be told what was going on. His feet itched to jump up and he watched Nico’s feet so intently for any sighed of movement. He waited as quietly as he could, making sure his breathing remained calm, glad – for the moment – that Kimi had a breathing apparatus; it helped cover the sound of his own breathing.

“How did your chart get in here?” Nico was frowning deeply; Sebastian could hear it in his voice. It made the hiding German relax for a moment, glad to know something wasn’t suddenly wrong with him. Above the bed, Nico was scanning the room, looking around and trying to find the extra occupant of the room but there was no luck. Maybe there wasn’t someone else in here. Maybe they had left once they found what they were looking for. Dropping the chart at the end of Kimi’s bed, Nico stormed out of the room to find his answer.

Sebastian climbed from under the bed, grasping at Kimi’s hand. If Nico was right and Kimi was basically just sleeping then he had every right to demand for the Finn’s attention. He’d been sleeping for long enough. Sebastian had finally made it into him, so he had to have the courtesy and wake up now. Sebastian sat next to him again, staring intently at his face. Why did Kimi have the breathing apparatus if he didn’t need it? Taking a risk, and checking over his shoulder that no one had come in, Sebastian pulled the tube from Kimi’s mouth, holding his breath as he set it down on top of it’s machine. With Kimi’s face now clear, Sebastian caught his cheek, waiting for his eyes to flutter open.

He waited.

But still nothing happened.

“Hey, Kimi,” Sebastian sniffed, tears instantly springing to his eyes. “It’s me. Sebastian. You’re going to open your eyes now, yeah?” He bargained. Still Kimi’s eyes remained closed. “Kimi?” both of Sebastian’s hands came up around Kimi’s face. Still Sebastian stared intently at his eyes, waiting for a tiny flicker of movement. He gave Kimi another shake. “You’re not… Don’t do this now, Kimi, please. I’m here. Right here. Don’t leave me on my own…” Sebastian checked the heart monitor but there was no change. He gave up staring at Kimi as the tears rushed over him. He curled into the fetal position, resting his head on Kimi’s torso as tears ran over his nose and soaked into the hospital sheets. Still clasping one of Kimi’s hands in his Sebastian let the tears roll out of his eyes, soaking into the man he loved. The soothing fingers playing through his hair made him feel light-headed… Relaxed… He could almost fall asleep right now…

“Tell you not to cry, Sebi…” A weak voice muttered. Sebastian had never sat up so fast in his life. Kimi laughed lightly at him as Sebastian’s hands found his face again, checking him all over, eyes wide in wonder. Blue eyes met teary eyes.

“Kimi?” Sebastian gasped in wonder. Kimi chuckled at him again.

“You look like you see a ghost…” Kimi breathed, his voice ruined from not being used and the breathing apparatus. Sebastian hit Kimi’s shoulder. “Ow! Hey, I’m sick. Have to be nice to me.”

“I told you not to die, Kimi Räikkönen!” Sebastian hit his shoulder again. “Do you know how worried I’ve been!”

“Am not dead, no?” Kimi laughed as Sebastian continued to lightly hit him.

“Never do that to me again!”

“Alright! Alright!” Kimi laughed.

But then the happy bubble was burst.

Because Kimi started coughing.

A lot.

It was a harsh, painful sound.

Sebastian didn’t know what to do.

He held Kimi’s face, looking him over and trying, desperately, to make the coughing stop.

It wasn’t like he could go and get a doctor.

He wasn’t even supposed to be here.

“Sebastian!” Nico barked, fury coating his features. But Sebastian didn’t wait for the lecture. As soon as the door was slammed shut Sebastian pulled Nico to Kimi’s bedside.

“What do I do?” Sebastian begged. Nico became alert to the situation.

“What happened?”

“We were just talking and then he started-”

“-He was talking?” Nico gasped in shock.

“Priorities?” Sebastian barked back, patting between Kimi’s shoulders. Nico pulled him away.

“Ok, Kimi, you need to calm down. Try and get your breathing in check… Seb!” Sebastian had gone round to Kimi’s other side, taking his hand tightly. “If you want to help get him to calm down.”

“Kimi?” Sebastian tried lightly, forcing his voice not to shake. Kimi felt exhausted. Why couldn’t he just go to sleep again? When he was sleeping he wasn’t doing this… But Sebastian… He’d been so broken. Kimi looked over to him as much as he could. “Ok, let’s take some nice deep breaths, yeah? Stay nice and relaxed? I’ve got lots to tell you. Lots to fill you in on. So how about you stay awake and calm and we can talk?” Sebastian soothed, rubbing circles into the back of Kimi’s hand. With Kimi much more interested in Sebastian and what he was saying Nico pressed the shot into the top of his arm. Kimi winced, growling round in pain to glare at Nico. But within seconds his coughing fit seized. Kimi fell back against the pillows panting slightly. Sebastian lent forwards, stroking his face gently.

“Can I get him some water?” Sebastian asked gently. Nico took his arm.

“Get out.” Nico barked, panting a little. Sebastian frowned as he was dragged to his feet.

“What?”

“ _SAU Sutil_ ,” Nico plucked the white coat Sebastian was sporting. “I told you you weren’t allowed in here!”

“I had to come, Ok! No one was telling me anything!”

“I wasn’t allowed to!” Nico argued back. “Domenicali has me under a confidentiality contract!”

“I’m not leaving.” Sebastian spat, trying to sit back down. Nico pulled on his shoulder.

“I will call security on you.”

“No…” Kimi muttered weakly. Both Germans turned on him, concerned. “Want him… To stay…” Sebastian smiled smugly; Nico wasn’t able to move him further because Kimi had a tight grasp on his hand.

“Kimi, Domenicali has forbid it. I’m sorry. This is against our policy and the contract I signed.”

“I… Will deal… With him…” Kimi breathed, pulling Sebastian back. “Get him… To come down… I will… Explain…” Nico looked at the pair dubiously but neither of them looked to be budging on their stance. Sebastian was already adjusting Kimi’s pillows so the Finn could sit in a comfortable position. Annoyed at himself, Nico relented.

“Alright. But I’m getting Domenicali right now.” Nico bit before storming from the room.

“Great bedside manner these guys have…” Sebastian joked loving the way it made the smile curl on Kimi’s lips. They had three seconds before Nico was back.

“Impersonating another doctor? Really?” Nico shot, pulling the coat at stethoscope from him. Sebastian just shrugged.

“Seb?” Kimi asked weakly as soon as Nico had left. Sebastian turned to him, eyes a little wide in worry. Kimi beckoned him closer and as soon as he could reach he wrapped his hand around Sebastian’s neck pulling him close for a kiss. “Thank you…” Kimi muttered, pressing their foreheads together.

“What for?” Sebastian frowned. Kimi looked deeply into his eyes.

“Saving me…” Sebastian instigated the kiss this time, letting his fingers trace through Kimi’s hair and down his torso. Because he was here. Kimi was right here. Alive and beneath his fingers.

\- - -

_Nico burst into the room, throwing his mask to the side. His eyes instantly fell on Kimi, looking unconscious with Sebastian curled tightly around him. Sobbing. Begging him to come back. Nico swallowed uncomfortably. If Kimi was already dead there wouldn’t be much he could do. He shut the door, moving towards the pair and putting his medical bag on the floor._

_“Seb?” Nico tried softly, placing a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. Sebastian gripped Kimi tighter. “Ok, Seb, I need you to let go now…”_

_“I won’t let you kill him!” Sebastian screamed, clutching Kimi closer. Nico sighed._

_“If you want me to save him I need to get close to him.” Nico said softly._

_“He’s already…” Sebastian couldn’t finish his sentence, overcome by more tears that rendered his voice useless._

_“He might not be, Seb. Let me check.” With a little persuasion, Sebastian let go of Kimi. But he didn’t go far. Nico came up with the compromise that Sebastian could support Kimi’s head. So with the Finn resting in Sebastian’s lap, his mask being constantly splashed with more tears, Nico set about checking the Finn for any signs of life. “He’s got a weak pulse…” Nico said, placing Kimi’s wrist down. Sebastian let go of Kimi’s face, desperate to feel a sign of life from the man in his embrace. Nico pressed a stethoscope to Kimi’s chest as Sebastian placed two fingers to the inside of Kimi’s wrist. He let out a shaky breath when he felt the distant beat._

_“Kimi? Kimi! Kimi wake up!” Sebastian demanded, shaking Kimi’s shoulders. Nico tore his hands off him._

_“He’s not awake for a reason…” Nico explained, feeling down Kimi’s thorax. “Swollen.” Nico nodded to himself, reaching for his bag. Sebastian watched with panicked eyes._

_“What are you doing?” Sebastian gasped, gripping to Kimi tightly._

_“His throat is swollen. If I don’t deflate it he’ll suffocate.” Nico explained, getting a metal case out of his bag. Sebastian took Kimi’s hand tightly in one of his own, placing a soft hand to his mask above his cheek as he watched Nico fill a large syringe with a deep green substance._

_“What’s that?” Sebastian panicked. Nico ignored him._

_“I need you to stay still, Seb. Keep him still as well. And don’t talk; I need to concentrate.” Nico instructed and Sebastian just nodded. He had to look away as Nico pressed the needle into the base of Kimi’s neck, sending all of the substance into his body. “Alright.” Nico nodded, putting the syringe away. Sebastian looked down at Kimi’s face._

_“Kimi? Kimi, come on now…” Sebastian pleaded. He moved to pull Kimi’s mask off but Nico pulled his wrists away._

_“That thing is probably the reason he’s still alive.” Nico explained, packing up. “Leave that on. It was a good call from you.” Nico smiled lightly. Both Sebastian and Nico felt a harsh shiver, exchanging a frown as it passed. But Sebastian didn’t care too much for what the shiver was, nor what the dull sound of an explosion was. Nico passed him a pair of latex gloves. “I need your help getting him to medical.” Nico explained, handing Sebastian his mask again. Nodding, Sebastian pulled it on as Nico extracted a foldable stretcher from his bag. Once it was set up and they had Kimi on it, Nico lead the way to the SAU Unit, Sebastian muttering encouraging words to Kimi all the way…_

\- - -

Domenicali had been pretty lax about the whole situation when he appeared to see Kimi sitting awake (Sebastian back hiding under the bed). Nico was confused how the whole confidentiality thing went out the window when Kimi requested Sebastian was allowed in to see him. The older Italian had just run a hand over his face and shrugged about the whole situation, leaving Nico to it and just glad Kimi was looking much better. Sebastian had a feeling his nonchalant attitude had something to do with Fernando.

It had been a week since that first day and Sebastian was visiting at least once a day. He practically knew Kimi’s treatment inside out he’d been there so much. He had made a joke to Nico that he could probably be Kimi’s doctor now in reference to him having sneaked in under the guise of another doctor. But Kimi didn’t think Sebastian had bad enough handwriting.

Sebastian felt refreshed to have Kimi back. It seemed like the three days he had been unconscious had been physically painful and draining. And that was why he was spending as much time as possible with Kimi. He had told him all about Mark and Fernando, or, at least, everything he knew about Mark and Fernando. Kimi hadn’t said much about it which concerned Sebastian a little. Did that mean Kimi wanted to risk it or not? Sebastian had always found it hard to gauge Kimi.

“Grapes?” Kimi laughed when Sebastian appeared with them one morning. Sebastian shrugged, setting them on Kimi’s table next to his jug of water and taking his seat.

“Fernando said that…” Sebastian mused.

“Fernando is in here?”

“No, when we got him back from P-Orsche. I came in to visit him-”

“-Because you felt bad.” Kimi nodded, remembering. Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“So how are you today?” Sebastian asked moving his chair so he was sitting next to Kimi. Kimi just shrugged. “Thanks, that’s really helpful.”

“Am not the doctor.” Kimi smirked. Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“No, that is true.”

“Besides, Hulkenberg thinks is best I do not use my voice much.”

“That is going to be such a challenge for you.” Sebastian said sarcastically. Kimi laughed at him.

“Want a grape?” Kimi offered, pushing the bag towards Sebastian. Sebastian just smiled, taking a few. “Some annoying guy who hovers around a lot left them.” Kimi teased. Sebastian hit his shoulder.

“Hey! Appreciate my thoughtfulness.” Sebastian pouted.

“Have been watching too much hospital programs.” Kimi smiled, sighing back into a comfortable position. Sebastian’s hand in his. Sebastian chewed slowly on his grape, contemplating his next words.

“What are we?”

“Humans, Seb.” Kimi muttered through a smile. Sebastian tutted him.

“Kimi, I’m serious.” Sebastian said, putting the grapes down. Kimi turned to look at him.

“To us or them?” Kimi asked. Sebastian swallowed.

“Both?”

“Them, we are friends,” Kimi nodded slowly. “But to us I like to think more.”

“Right…” Sebastian dropped his head.

“Sebastian,” Kimi muttered, tilting his head up and holding his cheek. Sebastian kept his eyes pointing at the floor. “You do not want this…” Kimi nodded, feeling a sadness settling in his stomach. His hand fell away from Sebastian but the German caught it, drawing his finger over Kimi’s palm. Kimi let go of his other hand.

“It’s not that I don’t want it… You,” Sebastian started. “It’s just…”

“Fernando and Mark.” Kimi nodded. He felt Sebastian tense.

“No one has seen him, you know.” Sebastian commented quietly. Sebastian looked up at Kimi. “No one has seen Fernando since Mark… Left.”

“Am not surprised.” Kimi muttered. “But it could be difference for us.”

“How? We’d have to hide.”

“Would hide better than them.”

“I don’t think that’s what got them discovered…” Sebastian muttered sadly.

“Is Ok, Seb. Can just be friends. Is fine.” Kimi nodded but Sebastian’s stomach squirmed uncomfortably. He didn’t want that. He wanted to be more with Kimi. All of those feelings he had bottles up for potentially years finally made sense. Everything made sense with Kimi. Sebastian didn’t want to loose the clarity.

“Did you suspect anything?” Sebastian asked a little while later when they were both eating grapes.

“Huh?” Kimi asked, trying to throw a grape in the air and catch it in his mouth. Sebastian put his empty grape stalk down.

“Between Mark and Fernando…” Kimi caught the grape in his mouth, turning to Sebastian as he chewed.

“Sort of,” Kimi shrugged. “Were always very close…. I guess I was not so surprised when you tell me because of the Hurricane Heist.” Sebastian nodded. “I know they were close but no one is that desperate for a friend.”

“I didn’t have a clue…” Sebastian added. Kimi ate another grape.

“They hid well.”

“Would you do that for me?” Sebastian said suddenly. Kimi frowned.

“Do what?”

“What Fernando did for Mark? Defy orders to save me?” Sebastian muttered. Kimi looked at Sebastian for a moment, trying to take him in. Understand what he was really asking about.

“Without the blink of an eye.” Kimi said confidently. Sebastian looked up at him, shocked. “You?”

“Me?”

“Would you defy orders for me?” Kimi asked. Sebastian gave a small chuckle.

“I already did.”

\- - -

His conversation with Kimi had really hit home. Yes, it would be an awful lot to risk with the potential of one of them ending up terminated but what if it was the best thing ever? What if, like Fernando and Mark, they got through ten years without being discovered? Would they even still be here in ten years? Or would they have moved on in life. Because once they had left they were free to be with whomever they wanted to be with. Sebastian held onto that as an appetising idea. He stopped on his walk back to his room, leaning on the wall and closing his eyes. Letting the dream of a house and a family and a life with Kimi after they were done here.

He wanted that.

He wanted that so badly.

As he walked down the corridor towards his room his thoughts flew to Fernando. His eyes lingered on the Spaniard’s door. He must be behind there. He must be hiding away in there, pretending none of this exists. How shit was the Elite? In all honesty, Sebastian couldn’t see what was wrong with Mark and Fernando’s relationship. Mark’s actions and Fernando’s actions since Mark had returned to the Elite made much more sense now Sebastian knew the truth about them.

Sebastian thought back to Kimi, how it would actually feel to loose the Finn. It had Sebastian stumbling on his feet. He wouldn’t be able to bear it. He couldn’t even comprehend how that would make him feel. Gripping tightly to his door handle, Sebastian forced himself to calm down. It wasn’t happening. Kimi was fine. Kimi was safe. Kimi was alive. Kimi wasn’t going to leave him and if that meant they had to just be friends then so be it.

That thought, however, also didn’t sit well with Sebastian.

Sebastian sank to his bed. His head was a jumble of thoughts. He so badly wanted to be with Kimi, the thoughts of a future together would always linger in his head. But the imminent threat of the Elite and what they would do if they found out… Sebastian wasn’t sure if he could stand the thought let alone the reality of never seeing Kimi again.

_“No, because if you did you would be in disbelief not anger. You wouldn’t be able to work out how I did it,”_

Words from a long time ago echoed around Sebastian’s head. Something Fernando had said to him. How, if Kimi and he were in a secret relationship, he would have to pretend not to care as much as he did if they lost Kimi. Sebastian didn’t want to do that. He wanted to be allowed to tear the place from the rafters until he got a team to help him find the Finn. Sebastian couldn’t bear the thought of another day without Kimi.

He had a lot of thinking to do.

\- - -

Kimi had been discharged for five hours when Sebastian cracked. He didn’t care of consequences or repercussions. He needed to see Kimi. And with every step towards the Finn’s door he made his decision and it became more sound. He felt better about it. Lighter. And as he knocked on Kimi’s door there was a light smile on his face.

“Come in.” Kimi called. Sebastian had to laugh as he took in Kimi lying on his bed. Kimi’s face genuinely brightened as he walked in. “Hey,”

“Hi.” Sebastian returned, crossing the room. Kimi sat himself up.

“I haven’t seen you for a while.” There was a tint of sadness in Kimi’s voice. Or, what Sebastian assumed was sadness. For all he knew Kimi could have a tickle in his throat.

“Are we alone?” Sebastian asked, hovering by the bedside. Kimi just nodded, frowning a little. But Sebastian’s lips came down on his so fast he stumbled slightly on what to do. One arm caught around Sebastian’s back as the other stabilised them on the bed. “You’ve been in bed for a week and a half and you come down here to return to bed.” Sebastian smiled, still lying on top of Kimi. Kimi ran a hand through his hair, sighing contently.

“I like bed.” Kimi shrugged, causing Sebastian to laugh.

“This is clear.” Sebastian curled around Kimi’s side, resting his ear above Kimi’s heart and loosing himself to the heartbeat below the skin of the man he loved.

“Seb?”

“Mmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Listening to your heart…” Sebastian muttered, blushing instantly. It sounded a lot sweeter in his head. Kimi tipped his chin up so Sebastian was looking at him.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Kimi muttered quietly, forcing his eyes on Sebastian’s and not his slightly flushed lips.

“Are you all better now?”

“Perfectly. Not a scratch.” Kimi nodded. Sebastian emulated, sitting up and straddling Kimi’s hips. Kimi held his hips securely, waiting for Sebastian to respond.

“I’ve been thinking… About us.” Sebastian started. Kimi nodded at him to carry on. “And I’ve decided I want to give it a go.” Kimi blinked.

“Sorry?”

“I… I want to try at us.”

“But what about your fear of what happened to Ma-?”

“-We’ll make sure it doesn’t happen. They got through ten years before they were detected. What says we can’t do that? And in ten years time we might be out of here. Then we’re free to do what we want.” Sebastian stroked across Kimi’s face as Kimi rubbed circles into his hips.

“Are you sure about this?” Kimi said firmly. Sebastian nodded instantly.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Then what would you like to do? Kimi smiled. Instead of answering, Sebastian climbed off of Kimi and crossed to the door, sliding the lock in place and ending up back on top of Kimi, noses almost touching. Kimi groaned as he felt Sebastian’s half hard cock on the inside of his thigh. “Have you ever done this before?” Kimi whispered. Sebastian slowly shook his head, pressing gentle kisses up Kimi’s throat. Kimi slid his hands in the back pockets of Sebastian’s jeans. “We go slow first.”

“Have you?” Sebastian asked, looking up at Kimi.

“In my two years out I potentially abused my opportunity.” Kimi nodded, knowing that if this was going to work he could never lie to Sebastian. Sebastian looked a little disgruntled by that. “But was always thinking of you…” Kimi muttered.

Sebastian crashed their lips together in the buzz of what Kimi was implying but his lips fell away from the Finn as Kimi ground their hips together, inflicting a gorgeous friction between them. Sebastian was panting desperately in Kimi’s ear, bringing them both to full hardness in a matter of moments and Kimi continued to move their hips together. As Sebastian began mewing in Kimi’s ear Kimi rolled them over so he was on top, sliding down Sebastian’s body and leaving a path of kisses behind him. Sebastian was panting hard, moaning and clawing at the sheets as Kimi kissed the predominant budge in his jeans. Holding Sebastian’s eye contact, Kimi tantalisingly slowly unzipped the flies and shimmied the denim down his legs. Sebastian peeled his shirt off as Kimi removed his boxers but was rendered motionless as Kimi swallowed him down, engulfing him in a pleasure he had never felt before.

There were three knocks on the door.

Niki turned his head, frowning slightly, before hitting the designated key on the keyboard and watching the image of Kimi and Sebastian together replaced by Kimi just lying on his bed.

“Hello, Niki.” Ecclestone smiled, walking into the Austrian’s office. “How are you?”

“Fine.” Niki ruffed, eyes raking the wall of screens in front of him. Every single security camera on site. The monitor in front of him let him look closer at certain screen.

“Haven’t seen you for a while.” Ecclestone folded his arms, his eyes raking the screens. He had no idea Niki had put a looped section of footage on every screen and that what he was surveying wasn’t live.

“Have been busy.” Niki shot. Ecclestone took a step closer to him.

“Anything new to report?” He hadn’t missed Jenson and Kevin’s closeness in the courtroom, but Ecclestone didn’t have a clue. He couldn’t get a read on it. He wouldn’t be sure if it was love or friendship. That was why he had Niki.

“Nope.” Niki lied breezily. Ecclestone folded his arms, nodding.

“Show me Agent Twenty-Two.” Ecclestone ordered lightly. Niki clicked a few buttons and showed Jenson in the Laren Training room. Not where he really was currently with Kevin in his own room. “And Twenty?” Niki flashed up another image of Kevin in an empty Laren strategy room, looking over some mission files. Exactly where he had been whilst Jenson was training. They had met up about ten minutes ago and headed to Jenson’s room. “Fourteen?” Ecclestone asked. Niki could hear the slight smile in his voice. Resentfully, Niki brought up the camera in Fernando’s room, though that one might as well have been live. Fernando was just lying on his bed, his arms tightly around his pillow. Luckily for Fernando the security footage was black and white, so there was no way Ecclestone could know it was Mark’s pillow he was hugging and not his own. “Keep an eye on those three, would you, Lauda.” Ecclestone said. Niki nodded, sliding his headphones back on as Ecclestone left the room.

Once he was sure Ecclestone was gone, he refreshed the security feeds back to live time, bringing Sebastian and Kimi back onto his monitor. They were both lying under Kimi’s duvet; Sebastian curled tightly in Kimi’s embraced. Niki was sure they were both naked considering the clothes strewn around the room. He watched as Kimi pressed a soft kiss to the top of Sebastian’s head, pulling him closer.

“Rakastan sinua.” Kimi muttered, his voice slightly tinny in Niki’s headphones. Sebastian looked up at Kimi.

“Huh?”

“Rakastan sinua.” Kimi repeated, smiling a little. Sebastian blinked slowly at him.

“What does that mean?”

“Is Finnish.”

“I know that,” Sebastian rolled his eyes, rolling so he was on top of Kimi. “But what does it mean?”

“I… I love you…” Kimi breathed, cupping Sebastian’s face.

“I love you too.” Sebastian smiled, pressing their lips together. Smiling, Niki switched images to Kevin and Jenson.

“…How is he?” Kevin asked as he rubbed his hand across Jenson’s shoulders. Jenson sat hunched forwards with his head in his hands.

“Refusing to open the door now. Even to me.” Jenson sighed.

“You are trying.” Kevin encouraged. Jenson fell back on the bed.

“I don’t want to let Mark down…” Even from the distance view of the security camera Niki could see the tears in Jenson’s eyes.

“You are not. Jenson, You are checking on him everyday. You have to let him grieve but once he is done he will come to you. You will see.” Kevin smiled lightly. Jenson dried his eyes.

“I don’t think he ever will be done…” Jenson muttered. Kevin laid down next to him, curling under Jenson’s arm. Jenson instinctively pulled him closer.

“How are you?” Kevin asked. Jenson breathed a laugh.

“Me? I’m fine.”

“Jense…” Kevin said, placing his hand on Jenson’s chest as he sat up. “I know you. Is Ok to be sad.” Jenson pressed Kevin’s lips to his, pulling the Dain tightly into his embrace. “You are allowed to cry with me if you want. I do not mind.”

“Thank you…” Jenson breathed, burying his nose in Kevin’s hair as he silently sobbed.

Niki then had to root around a bit until he found Felipe showing Rob around his new office.

“It’s nice. White suits you.” Rob nodded, keeping his arms tightly folded.

“White would suit you too.” Felipe teased.

“That was an accident. And your fault. I definitely told you I was putting my clothes on the chair.” Rob said as Felipe closed the door. When Felipe returned to Rob he pulled Rob’s arms apart before wrapping them around himself. Rob couldn’t help but hold Felipe tightly. It was an impulse. An instinct. One that, over the past six years, he had told himself he could submit to.

“Miss you…” Felipe sighed. Rob cupped his cheek.

“Lipe, we have to be careful…” Rob said gently. Felipe tried to push closer but Rob held him back.

“Rob…”

“You saw what happened to Mark. I won’t let it happen to you.” Rob said, shaking his head. Felipe pushed his hand onto his cheek.

“Am in a base elite now. Is easier. For sure, we make this work.”

“Lipe-”

“-Will not loose you, Rob.” Felipe promised, forcing Rob to close the gap between them.

“Felipe…” Rob muttered, kissing into Felipe’s hair. He looked down at the shorter man in his arms. “Eu te amo…” Felipe caught his cheeks.

“You learn?”

“You say it enough. I picked it up.” Rob smiled, allowing Felipe to pull him into a kiss. Niki smiled as he clicked away, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at the many screens above him. Rob and Felipe had had it so easy when they first got together. With Rob having every excuse to be in Felipe’s room or have Felipe in his office or to just spend time with Felipe. Being in the same Elite and being Mission-Engineer and Agent made their six years a doddle. But Rob was finding it a strain now, being so far from Felipe all the time. Niki knew Rob was trying to make the move to White.

Niki caught Daniel and Jean-Eric pass in the cafeteria. Nico Rosberg slap away Lewis’ hand as he ruffled his hair. Esteban watch sadly as Nico Hulkenberg rushed passed him. Romain gaze intently at the picture of his wife and child in his room. Niki saw them all. Niki saw each one ready to bloom or in blossom.

And then his eyes fell on Fernando.

Niki felt responsible for the Spaniard’s pain. And that hurt even more because of how beautiful they had been together. Niki wanted to do something to set it right. But there was no way he could bring Mark back; Mark had been terminated. And no one else would suffice for Fernando, Niki knew that. He may have let Fernando down, but Niki knew he could clean the slate for himself. With the picture of Mark and Fernando’s roof kiss constantly to hand as a reminder of what he was protecting. Real love. He would protect every other couple in this place and make sure Ecclestone never got the chance to take down anyone else.

Niki opened his drawer, lifting the tray of paperwork to reveal the hidden drawer underneath. The picture of Fernando and Mark. He took it out, lifting the small photo of James he had. The only on that was left. Niki closed his eyes, steadying himself before he set James’ image on the desk with Fernando and Mark’s. The file caught his eyes. The file he had taken from Andrea that Mark had written for Fernando. Niki had read it. He knew exactly what it said. Picking it up, his eyes fell on Fernando’s image. The broken shot of a human being made the decision in Niki’s mind.

He may not be able to bring Mark back, but he sure as hell could explain with Mark’s last gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to have a happier one eventually :')
> 
> *14*


	13. If You Had The Chance, Would You Break The Rules?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secrets that we sold were never known.   
>  (Never sing the song I sang)   
>  The love we had, the love we had, we had to let it go.   
>  (I'd never give it in again)   
>  (I'd never give it in again)

Felipe looked up at the knock on his office door. It always sent him on edge now. Every time he had spent the night before with Rob he was certain someone was coming in to tell him to pack up his things because he was being terminated. It was an imminent threat that seemed to hover over the entire Elite. People who used to be close were avoiding each other. When Felipe had been in the cafeteria just this morning he saw Jean-Eric push out a chair for Daniel that was sadly ignored. Felipe didn’t like it. He hated this fear that was now evident. It was as if no one wanted to get close to someone in case they ended like Mark.

It was slowly breaking the Elite apart.

The knocks came again and Felipe turned off his computer monitor, using the black screen to check his appearance. He couldn’t see any signs of Rob and him on his face. Ruffling a hand through his short hair made little, if any, difference. Felipe sighed, turning the screen back on as his eyes fell on his bag. Would they ask about that? Would they want him to empty his bag? Because that would be incriminating enough.

More knocks, and Felipe sighed.

“Come in.” The Brazilian called, fingers hovering over the keyboard nervously. When Rob walked in Felipe visibly relaxed.

“Way to keep me waiting, mate.” Rob smiled, closing the door, as Felipe came round from the back on his desk.

“What are you doing here?” Felipe asked, accepting Rob’s kiss. Rob took four steps back from him.

“Notice anything different?” Rob beamed. Felipe frowned at him for a moment. Yes, there was something very noticeable about Rob, but Felipe didn’t think anything of it.

“Have shaved your beard?” Felipe teased. Rob pouted at him, dropping his arms.

“I thought you like my beard… You said it made me look sexy.”

“I say no things, Rob, are imagining now.” Felipe smiled, sitting back behind his desk. Rob lent of the front of it.

“Well, it’s not the beard.” Rob sighed. “Beard is staying.”

“They how about you tell me the different?” Rob raised an eyebrow at him.

“You can’t see?” Rob flicked his eyes down to his attire.

“Can see are wearing my shirt, Red will not be happy about this.” Felipe grinned cheekily. He had stolen Rob’s Red Elite shirt before leaving the Brit’s room this morning for a laugh. But Rob just shook his head, his smile much brighter than Felipe’s.

“It’s not your shirt.” Rob beamed. Felipe frowned at him.

“Huh?”

“It’s not your White shirt.” Rob explained, showing Felipe the edge of the left sleeve. Felipe took in the small insignia. “It’s mine.” Felipe looked up at Rob with pleasant shock on his face.

“Is your shirt?”

“I’ve moved to White, Lipe.” Rob smiled, catching Felipe’s face in his hands. “Major Williams approached me the other day and offered me a higher position.”

“Major Williams?” Felipe frowned. Rob moved round the desk so he was beside Felipe.

“Yeah.”

“How is this good?” Felipe panicked, getting to his feet. Rob frowned from his crouched position by Felipe’s chair.

“Sorry?”

“When did he offer?”

“He caught me as I was leaving here after unpacking with you.”

“And are my superior?” Felipe shot. Rob got to his feet.

“He knows how well we work together, Lipe. And not specifically yours but I’ll be working alongside you. Valtteri and you.” Rob pulled Felipe closer to him, cradling his head against his chest. “Why are you worried?”

“What if he only hires you to catch us out…? What if they know?” Felipe breathed. Rob’s grip on Felipe tightened. He hadn’t even thought of that. When Major Williams had approached him about a week ago, reminding him that the offer for a new position was still available to him he just thought of how it meant working with Felipe again. Closely.

“It’s not… No, Felipe. You’re wrong. We just work well together…” Rob dipped his head to kiss Felipe when there was a knock at the door. Felipe pushed from Rob’s hold, sending the Brit across the room as the door opened. Major Williams moved into the room wit his daughter, Lieutenant Williams, just off his shoulder. Major Williams smiled softly, taking in Rob and Felipe.

“See, Claire? I told you he couldn’t have got far.” Major Williams smiled.

“Sergeant Smedley.” Lieutenant Williams said.

“Lieutenant.” Rob nodded. Felipe cast him a nervous glance.

“You are needed in a progress meeting in twenty minutes.” Lieutenant Williams said.

“Of course.” Rob nodded, taking a step to follow Lieutenant Williams out.

“Son, you’ve got twenty minutes. Finish up here with Agent Nineteen.” Major Williams smiled, beckoning Lieutenant Williams from the room. She disappeared quickly with Major Williams following just behind. Rob sighed out a breath as Major Williams disappeared.

“They know…” Felipe gasped, sinking into his seat. Rob moved towards him, rubbing across his shoulder. “Am going to be terminated…”

“Lipe, they won’t do that.”

“Will…”

“I’ll make sure they don’t. I promise.” Rob said harshly.

“That is not necessary, Sergeant Smedley.” Rob tried to jump up at the sound of Major Williams’ voice but it was too late. The old man was already back in the doorframe. Rob stood himself in front of Felipe.

“Sir, You don’t-” Major Williams started smiling as he entered the room.

“-Dear boy, before you get defensive here, calm down. Nothing is going to happen to either of you.” Williams smiled. Felipe and Rob exchanged a frown.

“Hey?” Rob asked, confused. Williams just chuckled at him.

“This is a base elite, son. Our rules are a little more… Lax than the field elites.”

“But you know we are violating section four of the-” Felipe panicked.

“-Field agent contract. _Field_ agent, gentlemen.” Williams smiled. The penny suddenly dropped in Rob’s head.

“You’re not going to do anything about it?”

“No, no. I hired you because you are good and work well with Agent Nineteen. Also you have been in this base so much recently I thought I would save Red the hassle of always trying to track you down.” Williams smiled.

“That’s only because Agent Seven was in hospital and didn’t need-”

“Sergeant, you don’t need to keep explaining yourself to me.” Williams said softly. Rob nodded, falling back beside Felipe. “I have no problem with this but there are authorities who will. So continue to keep this under wraps because if it comes to it I’m not going to be able to defend you.” Williams warned, earning a nod from both men in front of him. He smiled, turning around and leaving the room. “And don’t be late to your meeting, Sergeant!”

“Of course not, Sir. Thank you.” Rob called after Major Williams, closing the door. He lent his back against the dark wood, looking over at Felipe. Then they both smiled. Started laughing. And Felipe crossed the room, crashing his lips against Rob’s and tangling his fingers in the Brit’s hair. “That was close.”

“Tell you they know.” Felipe said smugly, keeping his fingers linked with Rob’s as he lead the taller man back to his desk.

“Yes, but I told you it wasn’t a problem.”

“Not exactly.” Felipe smiled, sitting down. Rob lent on the desk in front of him.

“Oh really?”

“Yes… Think you are wrong.”

“So you’re telling a superior he’s wrong now, are you?” Rob purred. Felipe rested his elbows on the desk with his chin resting on his linked fingers.

“And if I am?”

“You might have to be punished for that…” Rob muttered, setting Felipe’s skin on fire. Felipe held his gaze.

“Sergeant Smedley is very sexy…” Felipe purred, watching as Rob tried to hold onto his act. But it was slipping. Visibly. Felipe stood, mirroring Rob’s stance. “Maybe this punishment will be nice…” Felipe lent further forwards, placing his face inches from Rob’s. “Maybe I enjoy…”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” Rob tried, but his voice broke halfway through his sentence, giving Felipe the indication he needed to know he had undone Rob. The smile crept on the Brazilian’s face as Rob blushed.

“Are sure about this? For sure, think you would enjoy…” Felipe smirked. Rob caught his face and stole a kiss before Felipe could leave him hanging.

“Smug bastard.” Rob sighed as Felipe sat back down. Felipe beamed at his computer, fingers already carrying on with his work.

“You love it.” Felipe winked as Rob took a seat to his left. Rob found himself simply watching Felipe type away, feeling content.

_Yes, I do._

\- - -

“Agent Twenty-Two,” Jenson turned at the call of his name and found himself faced with his new Lieutenant, Lieutenant Boullier. Jenson smiled, clasping his hands behind his back and waiting for Boullier to catch him up.

“Sir.”

“Where are you going?” Boullier asked. Jenson swallowed nervously. He couldn’t exactly say “Kevin’s room” without raising suspicion.

“Going, Sir?” Jenson said, trying to sound innocent. Boullier extracted a page from the files he was carrying.

“Your schedule reveals you have this time free.” Boullier pointed out. Jenson frowned.

“Right…?”

“So where are you going?”

“Does it matter what I do in my free time, Sir?” Jenson asked. Boullier sighed at him.

“Wherever you were going, if you are not going to tell me, forget it.”

“Sorry?”

“You are not going wherever you were going.” Boullier said sharply.

“Because I’m not telling you where I’m headed?” Jenson scoffed. The Elite took away a few human rights, but free will was one too far.

“No. You are needed and considering that wherever you are going is so secret I cannot know,” Boullier looked at Jenson over his glasses, making the Brit uncomfortable. “Then whatever it was can wait.”

“If I was needed, sir, then why didn’t you just say?” Jenson asked, following Boullier towards his new destination. Kevin would understand.

“Because if you were off to do something important then this could have waited.” Boullier explained as he deposited his files with the Laren receptionist. He turned on Jenson. “We need you to go down to Agent Fourteen’s room and get him to come out of it.”

Jenson blinked, slightly stunned.

“Sorry?”

“Lieutenant Domenicali wants Agent Fourteen out of his room. It’s been a week, the world doesn’t just stop because the man he was intimate with is gone.” Boullier wrinkled his nose as he walked Jenson through the building. Jenson remained very quiet. “He’d done this before and Red feel no obligation on refraining from physical abuse to get him out again.” Jenson nearly stopped walking in shock. Red had physically beaten Fernando to get him out of his room when they initially believed Mark was dead? “However, Agent Stella is being persistent in the fact that, now the logistics are understood, the situation needs to be dealt with delicately. He thinks you will be able to get him out.” Boullier finished, opening the door to the Agent’s sleeping quarters.

Jenson swallowed, nodding and moving forwards alone. He, somehow, didn’t think he was going to be of much use. Fernando had only recently restarted letting Jenson into his room. And when Jenson had been in there yesterday he had pretty much told the Spaniard that he didn’t have to leave the room again if he didn’t feel up to it. He couldn’t possibly go in there now and tell Fernando the complete opposite. Fernando would call him a hypocrite and throw him out. It would probably do more bad than good.

And he liked being able to see Fernando. It helped him grieve for Mark.

“Jenson, thank you.” Andrea sighed, relieved, as Jenson approached. Jenson caught his hand before he knocked.

“Andrea… I don’t think I can help you.” Jenson said sadly.

“Yes you can. Just tell him to come out here.”

“I spent most of yesterday telling him to stay in there as long as he wanted…” Jenson admitted. Andrea deflated.

“Right…”

“I’m sorry. It’s just, he mentioned you trying to get him out when I spoke to him yesterday. It was what he wanted to hear. He doesn’t want to be forced into anything, Andrea.”

“If he does not come out Red will beat him out.” Andrea said desperately, gripping to the front of Jenson’s shirt.

“I don’t think that will work either.”

“Do not say this!” Andrea spat, shoving Jenson away.

“Andrea, Mark and Fernando… They were in love.” Jenson said softly. “His reaction is expected.” Kevin hid slightly behind his door; he had opened it to find out what the commotion was. “Just imagine ripping the person you would do anything for out of your life. And he didn’t even get to say….” Jenson had to stop talking as the tears threated at his eyes. Andrea looked at Fernando’s door sadly. “I’m sorry, Andrea.” Jenson breathed, turning on his heels and moving down the corridor. He needed to breath. If he could breath he could stop the tears. Everything was spinning and he could feel himself on the edge. When a hand took hold of his wrist he didn’t resist. He just fell into the embrace of whoever had pulled him into their room and let his emotions spill.

“Jenson…” Kevin muttered, pulling Jenson over to his bed. Jenson complied, happily allowing Kevin to manoeuvre him as he cried. Silent sniffles filled Kevin’s room as Kevin rested Jenson’s head in his lap, softly combing his fingers through the Brit’s hair. “I know this is hard for you…”

“They’re going to beat him…” Jenson breathed, causing Kevin to frown down at him.

“Sorry?”

“Red… They will beat Fernando to get him out of his room.” Jenson said, sitting up with red eyes. Kevin didn’t know what to do, or say. He touched Jenson’s shoulders before cupping his cheeks, drying Jenson’s face with his thumbs. “Andrea wanted my help.”

“But you told him you cannot. And I know you would only say that if you really could not help.” Kevin insured. Jenson shook his head, pulling Kevin closer.

“They’ll beat him.”

“You will loose him if you lie to him.” Kevin pressed, kissing the corner of Jenson’s mouth. “Are doing the right thing.”

“They will hurt him, I promised Mark I wouldn’t let them do that.”

“Have already hurt him more than he can take. A few bruises will not change this.”

“Don’t say it like that.” Jenson gritted, moving to push away from Kevin’s soft kisses. Kevin gripped him tighter. “It sounds too callous. It makes you sound like them.”

“Jenson, there is nothing you can do. If you turn on him he will never forgive you. And yes, you may save him some physical pain, but do you not think he already has enough emotional?”

“Kevin-”

“-No, Jenson. You need him. I will not let you conform to what the Elite wants you to do.” Jenson looked at the young man in his arms. How, in a fortnight, he had changed from the inexperienced Junior to an inexperience Agent to now this man who seemed to understand the workings of the system. Jenson felt like he had corrupted him. Not allowed Kevin the chance to comply with the Elite and be a well-behaved Agent because of what Jenson had told him.

“You’ve changed.” Jenson said softly, pushing his fingers into Kevin’s hair. Kevin couldn’t stop his eyes fluttering shut and his stomach flipping at Jenson’s touch. Yes, he had matured, but his body was still young and highly receptive.

“Have learnt.” Kevin corrected in a breathy voice. Jenson smiled at him, watching at how quickly Kevin reacted to him. This was probably the first time Kevin had ever had someone being so intimate with him. The Agents signed up to the Elite at such a young age they had to hand over any sexual desires there and then. Most Agents moving thought the program would only know their own touch, something to keep the sexual tension down between the employees. Jenson had had a momentary fling with David Coulthard but David put the Elite first and it ended when he moved up to the Bull Elite with a promise of good things. David had left the Elite shortly after. Every since that first new experience with someone else Jenson had known he would never be enough on his own. He constantly felt like one part of a whole, looking for his half.

Kevin seemed to fill that gap he had lived with for seven years.

“Just look what I’ve done to you…” Jenson muttered, lying Kevin down. Kevin’s back arched slightly into Jenson as the Brit climbed on top of him. “You’ve not even completed a mission yet and you’re already telling the Elite to go fuck themselves.” His voice purred as his kissed the sensitive skin down Kevin’s neck, making the Dain gasp and grip to him tightly.

“Have… Have done a mission…” Kevin breathed. Jenson lent up, looking at Kevin’s face.

“Really?”

“The attack…” Kevin sighed, looking at Jenson. Jenson just nodded.

“I feel like I’m constantly corrupting you…” Jenson admitted, running his hand down Kevin’s torso and bunching his shirt up as he moved his hand over the tight muscles of his navel. Kevin gave a small needy moan.

“Not.” Kevin panted, slamming his eyes shut and swimming in the feeling.

“I think I am.” Jenson smiled against Kevin’s neck, his fingers tracing the hard muscles of the body below him.

“Are… Are teaching me… Is what Major Dennis wanted you to do…”

“True.” Jenson nipped gently at Kevin’s skin.

“Jenson...” Kevin moaned lightly, letting his head fall back to give Jenson more access to his neck. Jenson looked down at his face, watching as the pleasure contorted his features. Kevin was too young to deal with just exactly what he gave the Brit. Jenson couldn’t tell him how much he meant to him. That, even though they had only properly known each other for a few weeks, Kevin seemed to complete him. Be his missing half. Jenson had always watched Kevin in his junior training; he had done for a few years now. Something about the boy who seemed to be years older than he looked was intriguing. Before Jenson could stop himself he had fallen for the young blonde.

But Kevin didn’t know any of that.

To Kevin, Jenson was just the here and now. Jenson was the person guiding him through this new challenge. And maybe one day Kevin could fall in love with Jenson, reciprocate the feelings that had drawn Jenson to him, but that day wasn’t today. Nor would it be in the near future. Jenson thought about what he said to Andrea. How would it feel to have the one person you would give your life for ripped from your life without your consent? It was something Jenson had thought about since Mark had gone. If someone took Kevin from him Jenson didn’t know what he would do. Even when Kevin was just a Junior he watched in training Jenson was in too deep. For three years Jenson had lost himself to the kid. And even though they weren’t an item back then Jenson knew he’d put his life on the line for him. How he had obsessed over Kevin without even knowing his name. Jenson shook his head.

He knew if anything ever happened to Kevin he would act the same way Fernando was now. And that’s why he couldn’t tell the Spaniard to man up. Jenson wouldn’t be a hypocrite to Fernando or himself.

“You stopped.” Kevin said, looking up at Jenson. Jenson who was looking distant. Kevin touched his cheek and watched the love struck expression crash onto Jenson’s face.

“You didn’t want me to?” Jenson asked softly. Kevin just shook his head. “This is very against the rules.”

“Do not care.” Kevin said confidently. Jenson climbed off of him, standing across the room from Kevin.

“And do you care now?”

“Jense, this is not just some horny need.” Kevin said, getting to his feet.

“You don’t know that.” Jenson laughed. Kevin folded his arms.

“Fine. Just stand there. Give me an hour, two, a day, week, I will not ask you to leave.” Kevin said. Jenson considered him for a moment.

“Have you done anything like this before?”

“I know the difference, Jenson. Have never felt like this before. Maybe I cannot explain it but I know it is because of you.”

“That’s not answering my question.” Jenson said softly. Kevin shrugged.

“Messed around a bit in Junior I guess. But nothing… Nothing more than…”

“Got it.” Jenson nodded.

“You make me feel different.” Kevin said, moving towards Jenson. Jenson allowed Kevin to explore his body, tracing his sharp muscles through his shirt. “I trust you.”

“Yeah?”

“You promised to save me. You said you would give your life for me. How can I not?” Kevin asked, lifting Jenson’s shirt. Jenson watched as Kevin sunk to his knees, pressing soft kisses down his navel, following the path of his happy trail.

“Kevin-”

“-I know this is not allowed. Do you not think I have not studied the rules inside out? This has been my dream since I signed up.” Kevin looked up and Jenson with such innocent eyes his mind exploded with the possibilities. “But I know what I want.”

“You could jeopardise everything. You could end this career before it’s even started.” Jenson pushed, trying to make Kevin see. Kevin got to his feet, holding Jenson’s wrists against the wall and raising on his tiptoes so their lips were mere inches apart.

“What if my dream changed?” Kevin whispered, searching Jenson’s eyes. Jenson tried to take his hips but Kevin continued to restrict him. “I know what I want, Jenson.”

“And you normally get that, do you?” Jenson smirked back. Kevin lost no seriousness in his expression.

“I do everything I have to to get it.”

“Then maybe I should get the door.” Jenson muttered, dipping his head and pressing his lips to Kevin’s. Kevin’s hands came to the edge of Jenson’s face, holding him close, never letting him slip from his fingers. Jenson walked him back towards the bed, somehow in the desperation of movement loosing both of their shirts and dropping Kevin’s jeans halfway down his legs. He pushed Kevin lightly backwards, watching him fall back and lay out on the bed. Kevin opened his mouth to argue as Jenson headed for the door, but hearing the lock slide into place he relaxed. Jenson climbed into Kevin’s outstretched arms, taking his lips and running his hands all over the Dain’s body.

“Jenson,” Kevin breathed, trying to pull Jenson closer. Jenson continued to kiss him deeply, pulling his body closer as he straddled him. But it was Kevin who pushed Jenson’s hips down, causing a new friction between the two of them they would never get enough of.

\- - -

Niki had watched them. Watched them all come in and try to talk some sense into Agent Fourteen. But he was having none of it. He wouldn’t listen to any of them. Not even when Domenicali appeared and told him that if he didn’t come Red would be forced to take action. He had just lain on his bed, clutching tightly to Webber’s pillow, and ignored them. Of course, now he was allowed to be desolate about the loss of Webber. Now there were solid reasons to his actions. Now he had nothing to hide so he was lying bare on the page. And why would he listen to the people who took the one thing he needed to find reason in life?

Niki sighed, catching up the file and leaving his office, locking the door. Agent Fourteen may not want to listen to anyone else, but he would definitely listen to Mark.

\- - -

“Fernando, this is stupid.” Andrea gritted as Fernando, per usual, laid on his bed with his back to the Italian, clutching the dark blue pillow tightly. “Red will come down here and if they do I don’t have the power to stop them.”

“So let them.” Fernando sighed, glaring at the wall. He wouldn’t care. He hated them all. All of them had taken Mark from him. And none of them had given them a final five minutes. The last time Fernando had seen Mark he had made him promise to not go to the trial. They hadn’t even been able to kiss because Mark was under observation. It hurt like a dagger to his heart.

“Fernando-”

“-Am not moving, Andrea. Will not work for people who…” Fernando couldn’t even finish the sentence. Andrea sighed dejectedly. Fernando only knew he had sat down because the bed dipped. A gently hand caught his shoulder.

“Would he want you to do this?” Andrea tried softly. Fernando aggressively shrugged him off.

“Yes.” Fernando spat.

“Sit here and waste your life?”

“I do not know how to be this without him…” Fernando sighed, closing his eyes to stop the tears. How he was still managing to produce them he would never understand. Andrea’s arms came around him like they had done so many times over the last week. Fernando spun around, squashing the pillow between the two of them as he pulled the Italian closer, letting the tears soak into the pillow along with the rest of them.

“Do you think…” Andrea sighed sadly, pulling Fernando closer. “Do you think maybe is time you stop?”

“And do what?” Fernando asked, looking up at his Mission-Engineer. “I do not know how to be anything but this.” Mark and he were going to retire together. It was a plan they had made.

Mark had already put the deposit on the house in Spain.

“Do not know, Fernando.” Andrea muttered, pulling the Spaniard closer. “You need to do something. He would not want you in here wasting the rest of your life.”

“I have nothing else…” Fernando muttered. Andrea pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Will always have me, Fernando.” Andrea whispered, closing his eyes and burying his nose in Fernando’s tangled hair. He gave Fernando a few minutes before he pulled the pillow from between them, instantly feeling better to have Fernando’s body against his, feel his heartbeat against his skin.

“Andrea?” Fernando muttered, burying his head in the Italian’s neck. Andrea just nodded, brushing his hair out of his face and kissing his forehead.

But the question never got asked; someone knocked at the door.

Fernando gripped tightly to Andrea but Andrea, resentfully, pushed himself from Fernando’s grip. It saddened him to turn back to the Spaniard and see him clutching tightly to Mark’s pillow. Andrea had finally managed to get his hands off it but Fernando was already slipping backwards, further away from him. He dropped his head, moving to the door and opening it.

“Major Lauda?” Andrea questioned as Niki walked into the room. Only Fernando’s eyes were visible above the pillow as he clutched it tightly, sitting crossed-legged in the middle of his bed. Andrea closed the door folding his arms, his eyes on the file in Niki’s hands. “Can I-?”

“-Agent Stella, am going to need you to leave Agent Fourteen and myself for about an hour.” Niki said flatly. Fernando looked desperately at Andrea.

“No.” The Italian said. Niki scoffed at him.

“Leave.”

“What is the file?” Andrea asked as Fernando looked at it with frightened eyes.

“Is for Agent Fourteen.”

“Mission briefs come through me.”

“Is not a mission brief.” Niki pressed, stepping behind Andrea and opening the door. “Please.”

“What is it?”

“For Agent Fourteen. Confidential. Does not concern you.” Niki pressed. Andrea stood stiff still.

“Am not leaving until you-”

“-Is this you defying direct orders, Stella? Because this will not end well for you.” Niki spat. Fernando hugged Mark’s pillow tighter. Andrea exhaled in an annoyed manner.

“Will be just outside.” He said flatly. Niki nodded, gesturing him out the door.

“Andrea!” Fernando called frantically as his Mission-Engineer moved away from him.

“Will be just outside, Fernando.” Andrea said, not turning back but continuing to glare at Niki. Niki nodded his thanks before slamming the door behind Andrea. Fernando shrunk into himself as Niki approached.

“Am not going to hurt you, Agent Fourteen.” Niki said calmly, moving the chair in front of Fernando’s bed. Fernando continued to hide behind Mark’s pillow. “Here.” Niki placed the file on the edge of the bed. Fernando looked at it sceptically. “Is for you.”

“What is it?” Fernando mumbled. Niki just smiled.

“Why not read it?”

“What is it?” Fernando pressed. Running a hand over his face, Niki sighed.

“Is from Web-“ Niki cleared his throat. “Is from Mark. Mark wrote it for you and told Agent Stella-”

“-Andrea.” Fernando corrected. Niki raised an eyebrow at him but Fernando held his stony expression.

“Mark wrote it for you and gave it to _Andrea_ to pass on to you if he did not manage to see you again…” Fernando swallowed back the tears. Now wasn’t the time to cry. His eyes fell back on the file in front of him.

“Why does Andrea not give it to me?”

“Because I took it from him.” Niki said bluntly.

“You take-?”

“-Is information in there Mark should not have known. You should definitely not be told it.”

“Then why give it to me?” Fernando frowned.

“Because Mark wanted you to have it. Is from Mark to you. Is not mine to hold onto.” Fernando didn’t understand how someone of such a high status would be giving him information he shouldn’t have. Niki exasperated when Fernando still didn’t move. “Read this and I will answer every question you have.” Niki promised. Fernando frowned at him.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because…” Niki closed his eyes. “Have been in your situation. Your situation but worse. And this will help you.” Niki insured.

“My situation?”

“Will explain after you read.” Niki tapped the file. Fernando still sat still. “Do not have all day, Agent Four-”

“-Fernando.” Fernando bit, picking up the file. “Stop calling me agent.”

“My apologise, Fernando.” Niki said calmly, watching Fernando closely. Fernando opened the file and felt the tears build in his eyes.

_Fernando,_

 _If you’re reading this I’m obviously not there. So I guess the first thing I want to do is apologise for leaving you abruptly. I wanted to tell you all this in person but I couldn’t. It would have ended much worse for us. I’m hoping that this can, at least, set your mind to rest about some things. And I hope that this lets you know that I was always yours, mate, even if sometimes it didn’t seem like it._

“Cannot…” Fernando breathed, shoving the file across the bed and pressing his palms over his eyes. He couldn’t read Mark’s words like he was still around somewhere. Like he wasn’t... Fernando shook his head. It was cruel of Major Lauda to do this. It wasn’t fair. Fernando wouldn’t play his game.

“Fernando, please.” Niki said, rubbing his hand on Fernando’s back. He sat beside the Spaniard passing the file back. “Know this is hard but it will help. You have to read it. Then whatever you want explained I will explain. I promise.” Fernando caught his breath and tried to push the file away. “Fernando, read it.” He had never heard Niki’s voice so soft. With tears still brimming in his eyes he took the file back. Niki left him to read it, opening the curtains and looking across the courtyard in the middle of the F1 Elite premises. He gave Fernando the time to read Mark’s last gift, ready to explain anything and everything once Fernando had finished.


	14. Lightening Never Strikes The Same Place Twice, Unless You Attack With Your Eyes Closed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tell me would you kill to save a life?   
>  Tell me would you kill to prove you're right?   
>  Crash crash burn,   
>  Let it all burn,   
>  This hurricane's chasing us all underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a mammoth of a chapter and, I feel, it's a necessary tissue warning. Potentially a big one. 
> 
> To give you some understanding of how potentially bad this is, let's just say I've been writing this part for five days now and, as I was finishing it earlier today, my head refused to let me write on. It physically stopped me. I had to force myself on. 
> 
> You'll probably be able to work out what part that is. 
> 
> So, fair warning… I hope you can, sort of, enjoy this : )  
> 

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

“Fernando, stop it.” Andrea uttered in a hushed voice as Fernando insistently tapped his fingers on the desk, glaring at the door Ecclestone would appear through. He was so furious. He had never been so mad in his life. Niki had been right; he shouldn’t have been told that information. The file from Mark should have been burned. But now Fernando knew. Now Fernando was burdened with truth. And nothing anyone could say would make him forgive the Elite. Nothing.

Fernando couldn’t believe the extent to exactly how disposable they all were.

“Is it annoying?” Fernando shot back. Andrea had been confused by his foul mood ever since Niki left but Niki had made him swear not to tell Andrea. As much as Fernando wanted to tell the Elite to shove it and tell Andrea, it was Niki who had told him, not the Elite. The Elite were none the wiser he knew how the organisation was run so telling the Italian would give him no satisfaction and sticking his middle finger up to the bosses. After hearing Niki’s story about James Fernando understood the Austrian’s compliance to telling him everything. But it still meant he couldn’t tell Andrea. So he was unexplainably in a bad mood.

“A little, yes, but you look like you are about to break the table.” Andrea muttered back. Fernando exasperated, pulling his hands into his lap.

“Better?” He spat under his breath. Andrea turned on him.

“What is the matter with you?”

“With me?”

“Yes, Fernando. Ever since your secret meeting with Lauda that I cannot be told anything about you have been in a foul mood.”

“He got me out my room, didn’t he?” Andrea had been shocked, to say the least, to find Fernando avidly pacing his room when he returned after Niki left. He did not expect for the Spaniard to demand to be taken to Major Montezemolo. Andrea had taken him to the Major’s office but Fernando had never gone in. He had just glared at the door with a look that could kill. Domenicali was happy when Fernando turned up to the team briefing though, so Andrea was relatively relieved they didn’t need to beat Fernando again.

“This is not why I ask and you know this.” Andrea looked over at Jenson who was frowning in Fernando’s direction. “People notice, Fernando, and do not understand.”

“Tough shit.” Fernando shot, folding his arms tightly and returning to glaring at Ecclestone’s door.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sebastian asked Kimi in a quiet voice. Kimi just shrugged.

“Don’t know.”

“But you’re his teammate.” Sebastian frowned.

“So?”

“ _So?_ So you should know.”

“Do not ask him. Barely see him.” Kimi muttered, staring at the ceiling in a bored manner.

“But-”

“-Spend most of my free time with you…” Kimi muttered quietly in Sebastian’s ear with a smirk. The young German blushed.

“If there was something wrong with Daniel I would know.” Sebastian said, forcing the conversation not to waver. Right now would be the worst time for Kimi and his relationship to come out.

“Do not know, Seb.” Kimi sighed, returning to looking at the ceiling. Sebastian lent on the table, surveying Fernando for a little while.

“Jenson?” Kevin said softly for the third time. He touched Jenson’s shoulder lightly making the Brit jump.

“What?” Jenson asked, still looking at Fernando even though his head was turned towards Kevin.

“You are worrying me.” Kevin admitted with a faint blush. Jenson’s head whipped round to him so fast it was a shock he didn’t break his neck.

“I’m fine.”

“You are distracted.” Kevin pointed out. Jenson sent a look across the table to their Mission-Engineers. They were stuck in an in depth conversation about something. Jenson risked it, touching Kevin’s knee.

“I’m fine.”

“Then what is it?” Kevin asked, his worry coming through in his voice. Jenson let his eyes fall on Fernando again.

“Does Fernando seem…. Different to you?” Jenson asked. Kevin followed his gaze.

“Different?”

“Yeah…”

“Do not really know him.” Kevin shrugged. Jenson chewed on his lip.

“He’s different.” Jenson confirmed. Kevin looked round at him.

“Good different?” Kevin tried, though he already knew he was wrong as Jenson shook his head.

“Bad different.”

“How can you tell?”

“He just seems more… Aggressive.”

“Aggressive?”

“Mmm…”

“Kimi, you have to know.” Sebastian shot in a hushed voice. Kimi sighed, closing his eyes.

“Do not.”

“Have Red not told you? Bull would have told me.”

“Nope.”

“But it must be common knowledge within the Elite.” Sebastian insisted. Kimi turned to face him.

“Maybe the Elite do not know.” He shrugged. Sebastian frowned back over at Fernando, pondering that thought.

“Maybe…”

“Maybe they do not notice.” Kimi added. Sebastian scoffed at that. They had to have noticed. Never before had Sebastian seen Fernando tried to burn down a wall with his eyes.

Fernando could see them all. Jenson and Kevin, Kimi and Sebastian. He knew the look of someone in a new relationship. Knew the rush of feelings, the buzz of anticipation of breaking the rules. The need to be ever presently beside them. Fernando shook his head. The Elite probably knew about each one of them too. Maybe just trialling them out until they tore them apart. Fernando wanted out of here. He didn’t want to be sitting in the strategy room with the potential of going out on a new mission to retrieve some other pointless shit for Ecclestone.

Fuck Ecclestone. And fuck the Elite.

“Gentlemen,” Ecclestone’s voice poured through the door as it was opened for him. Fernando’s grip on his thigh intensified. What he would give to leap over this table and strangle the old man. Ecclestone didn’t even sit down. Fernando tried to soften his features but they were locked. “It appears we have a situation.”

“Why else would you have called us here?” Lewis joked. But it fell on flat ears.

“The Machine we successfully obtained about a month ago,” _In exchange for Mark._ Fernando thought darkly. “Apparently has a sister.”

“Ok?” Pastor said, confused. “So there are two.”

“Agent Thirteen, I do not think you understand the severity of this situation.” Ecclestone said, gripping the back of his chair. It was only then that Fernando realised Ecclestone was annoyed. _Of course he is. He planned to exchange Mark for the Machine. He did not expect there to be a second Machine. Defeats the object of having the only Machine._

“So what do you propose we do?” Nico asked, although he already knew the answer. He was looking Fernando’s way when he asked the question.

“We go back into the P-Orsche Headquarters and retrieve the sister machine. Mission Thunderstorm.” Ecclestone said definitively. Fernando’s eyes scanned the other agents. One of them wasn’t coming back here. That’s how the system worked. Maybe they already knew about Jenson and Kevin, or Sebastian and Kimi. Maybe this was the Elite’s way of breaking the couple without touching them. Fernando shook his head as his jaw locked.

“Surely they will just build another?” Romain asked. “What is the point?”

“The point is, Agent Eight, that we have an incomplete mission.” Ecclestone barked. He could sense the apprehension in his agents and he was sure it’s because Fernando was on the team. “Ten field agents, this should be a doddle.” Ecclestone said. _Nine._ Fernando glared at the General as he moved around the room.

“If we think there is a possibility they will build another then we have to steal the plans as well.” Captain Schumacher said, standing at the head of the table next to Ecclestone’s vacant chair. Fernando coughed away a scoff. That was probably a set-up line.

“So we need two teams?” Jenson said. “Which reduces the number of agents we have to go into, what I’m guessing is, a highly restricted area.”

“What is your point, Agent Twenty-Two?” Ecclestone pushed, leaning on the back of Sebastian’s chair.

“This is seeming more and more like a suicide mission.” Jenson frowned. Ecclestone shrugged.

“Maybe, but it will be possible if you all believe in it.”

“That’s the point. We do not.” Kimi said. Fernando understood Kimi’s sudden keen interest; now each mission lead to potentially putting Sebastian in danger. Now they were together Kimi would do everything he could to protect him. Fernando didn’t realise he was holding his breath in anger until Andrea placed a hand on his leg. He exhaled, closing his eyes.

“That’s why we have strategy meetings. You stay in here and plan until you believe the plan is fail proof.” Ecclestone said, gesturing to Schumacher. The German moved around the table, handing out mission files as Ecclestone took his seat.

“No mission is fail proof.” Fernando muttered.

“Sorry, Agent Fourteen? Something you wish to add?” Ecclestone poked, his eyes glinting with what Fernando was sure was joy.

“I say: no mission is fail proof.” Fernando repeated louder. An awkward silence filled the room.

“A-Agent Fourteen is right, Sir.” Domenicali stuttered. Ecclestone raised an eyebrow at the Italian. “Because… We can plan for everything but sometimes circumstances change. Sometimes things go wrong. There are always lots of unpredictable outcomes.” Domenicali swallowed. _Unless Ecclestone fixes it all._ Fernando spat in his head, returning his glare to the commander.

“Well, of course there is always risk but a plan can be fail proof.” Ecclestone said, returning Fernando’s eye contact. _Right, because if an agent is lost it’s planned. They were meant to be lost. Hence never failing in a mission._

“So two teams,” Nico said, pulling the blueprints for the P-Orsche building from his file. Fernando sat back and watched the two different conversations going on. The Lieutenants planning the best way of getting into the building and, trying, to secure a safe path for both teams to get to where they needed to go whilst the agents and Mission-Engineers focused on the teams and formation of attack once inside the P-Orsche. He was taking on board the information he would need for his own mission. And Fernando felt that, since he would be partaking in none of the Elite business, he had no need to contribute.

“Nothing to add, Agent Fourteen?” Ecclestone asked as everyone began packing away with new maps drawn and personal plans to sort through. Fernando simply shrugged, as everyone else in the room froze mid-way through leaving.

“No, Sir. Think I understand completely.” Fernando said with a sickly sweet smile.

“I said nothing to _add_ not if you understood.” Ecclestone pressed. Fernando shook his head, getting to his feet and pulling his bag over his shoulder.

“The plan seems sound. Am sure it will pan out exactly as you want it to.” Fernando nodded, collecting his own mission file with his notes. Ecclestone frowned at Fernando for a moment. But then his expression changed to a smile. There was no way Fernando could know how the Elite was run; Mark hadn’t got a chance to be near him. And Niki would have told him of any breaches to their deal before the attack.

“Good.” Ecclestone grinned. “I think we should all be prepared for a hard mission. After their failed attack on us the P-Orsche will not make it easy to accomplish our goal. But have no fear. I know you will succeed.” Ecclestone nodded to the room before walking out the back followed by Schumacher. With Ecclestone gone, everyone else began to vacant the room.

“Fernando-” Andrea caught up to Fernando on his way down to his room.

“-Not now, Andrea.” Fernando shot, storming away from the Italian. Andrea frowned Fernando’s back.

“Why not?” Andrea jogged to catch up with him.

“Need to go through this.” Fernando said, holding up his mission file.

“Right. Me too.” Andrea joked lightly, holding up his own. Fernando shook his head.

“Alone.” Andrea caught Fernando’s shoulder before he disappeared into his room, his heart breaking a little.

“Fernando-”

“-Sorry, Andrea.” Fernando brushed his hold off of him. “I need to do this alone.”

Andrea felt like everything was slipping away from him as the door slammed in his face. He was shocked he wasn’t falling.

-

“…Do you not think?” Kevin asked, talking with Jenson about his first strategy meeting as they headed for the Brit’s room. But Kevin abruptly walked into Jenson’s back as the Brit stopped. “Ow…” Kevin squinted, rubbing his nose and looking over Jenson’s shoulder. He frowned as they both took in Andrea sitting on the floor outside Fernando’s room with his mission notes on his lap. He was drinking slowing from a cup of coffee as another similar cup sat in front of the closed door. “What is he doing?” Kevin muttered to Jenson.

“No idea.”

“So we ask?” Kevin looked unsure but Jenson was already walking forwards.

“Andrea?” Jenson said softly. Andrea froze with the cup halfway towards his lips, his eyes sliding from his notes to Jenson.

“Yes…?” Andrea said slowly. Jenson looked back at Kevin for some support.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading over my notes. Mission is in three days, need to be ready.” Andrea smiled but the expression didn’t reach his eyes.

“Should you not be doing that with Fernando?” Kevin asked. Andrea swallowed heavily, his eyes landing on the door.

“No… Fernando is doing his own thing…” The Italian’s voice was higher than it usually was. Jenson recognised the sadness in his eyes. He’d seen it too much in Fernando’s recently.

“And that coffee is a spare?” Jenson asked lightly, crouching in front of Andrea. Andrea looked back at his data.

“Am working.”

“On the floor?” Kevin appeared at Jenson’s shoulder.

“Does he know you’re down here?” Jenson asked. Andrea sighed, relenting and letting the sadness rush over him. He ran a hand over his face.

“No…”

“Andrea…”

“What? He shuts me out.” Andrea snapped. “How can I get him to explain if he does not talk?”

“Explain?” Kevin queried.

“You have noticed, no?” Andrea continued to talk to Jenson. “You see his mood. Is annoyed.”

“You don’t know why?” Jenson asked, shocked.

“No! He does not say.”

“I assumed you would know.” Jenson frowned at Fernando’s door.

“Well, do not. And cannot just sit here and pretend he is fine.” Jenson got to his feet. “What are you doing?”

“He needs to explain.” Jenson said, raising his fist to knock.

“Do not.” Kevin said, grabbing Jenson’s other hand. Jenson frowned down at him, fist still poised.

“Why not? He owes Andrea an explanation.”

“What if this is a Mark thing? What if it is something we cannot understand?”

“Trust me, if it was a Mark thing I’d understand…”

“Jenson-”

“-Oi, Fernando.” Jenson called through the door, knocking. “I know you’re in there. Andrea is out here, mate. He wants to go through your mission stuff.” Everyone looked at the door waiting for it to open. A few minutes later when it was still shut Jenson knocked again. “Hey. You owe him an explanation.” Jenson said, getting slightly annoyed at the Spaniard. Still nothing. Jenson pushed the handle down.

“Has locked that. Why do you think I sit out here?” Andrea said as Jenson hit the door in annoyance. “Just go, Jenson. Obviously does not need to talk to me.”

“But you need to talk to him.” Jenson bit. He hammered persistently on the door. “OI! GET YOUR ARSE OUT HERE OR OPEN THIS DOOR!”

Fernando looked away from the door, focusing back on the files he had open in front of him. His mission file he got today and Mark’s file. Timo, Neel, Nick, Brendon, Marc, Romain, Fritz. Seven people Mark mentioned seeing at the P-Orsche. Seven people Fernando could blame for the fact he lost Mark. He knew who Fritz was. He knew who he was looking for there. And the other six were apparently Specials. The only Specials on the P-Orsche. That would make Fernando’s job easier.

Because at least then he could single out the six other people he needed to kill.

\- - -

Jenson was still mad at Fernando. He had stood there for at least half an hour banging on his door, trying to get him out of his room. In the end Andrea had pulled him away, demanding he left Fernando alone and got on with his own shit. Kevin had dragged him back to his room, forcing him to get on with their mission preparation but Jenson couldn’t concentrate. Glaring at the Spaniard sitting on the opposite bench in the van made him feel no better. He still didn’t think Fernando had explained his mood to Andrea. And now there seemed to be some sort of determined air around Fernando that was unexplainable. Jenson knew it wasn’t about the mission because he knew Fernando had no faith in the mission. Or some faith… it was all very confusing really.

Sebastian had his arm pressed against Kimi’s and was desperately resisting the temptation to rest his head on his shoulder. He was thinking about Kimi, the words they had shared mere minutes before climbing into the back of the truck. Kimi had forced him to promise he would stay out of danger and let the Finn go first if there was a potential threat. But he was rueing his words. He couldn’t stand back and watch Kimi die for him. He’d watched the Finn die once; there was no way he could do it again. But he had promised Kimi. They had even fixed the teams so they were together, so Kimi could protect him. Sebastian was torn with a need to save Kimi but also a need not to let him down.

Kevin wanted to hold Jenson’s hand again. Feel his lips on his forehead or cheek. Fell his breath on his skin. Just feel the Brit intimately close to him. He had a horrible feeling. There was a hovering sense of inevitability that something very bad was going to happen. But he couldn’t be himself with Jenson at the moment because there were too many eyes around. He looked into the Brit’s face, willing him to look over at him with his deep blue eyes. Willing him to make his breath stutter as he smiled at him. But he couldn’t ask for any of it. Right now, he wasn’t allowed. _Once we’re back I’ll hold you so tight and never let go. So you have to come back in one piece, yeah?_ Jenson’s words echoed around his head. He just hoped they would ring true.

The same ritual, every time. Romain pulled the locket from around his neck and sent a kiss to his woman and child, praying that he could get through this for them. He looked down at the team sheet one last time, making sure he had every detail planned in his head. Kimi, Sebastian, Pastor, Daniel and himself would be aiming for the sister Machine; Jenson, Kevin, Nico, Lewis and Fernando were after the plans. If everyone followed the plan they had made it should all go swimmingly. But there were still so many unpredictable outcomes. Romain closed his eyes, pressing the locket to his lips and sending his love to his family.

“Hey, Nico?” Lewis muttered, looking at his teammate. Nico gave him a small smile that looked incredibly forced. Lewis touched his shoulder. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” Nico asked in a small voice. Lewis touched his cheek.

“You know what.” Nico’s smile fell away as he nodded gently. Lewis moved his hand from his cheek and extended it to Nico. “Pleasure working with you.” Lewis said softly. Nico pushed his hand away.

“Don’t you do that.” Nico breathed, a hint of moisture in his eyes. Lewis let his head fall back against the wall of the truck, nodding. He understood. He was sure everyone did. But at least he understood what Nico was asking him, begging him. Lewis closed his eyes, trying to think of Nico at a happier time.

Fernando couldn’t focus. One of them was up for grabs. Potentially Kimi. Potentially Jenson. Potentially himself. He just didn’t know. But he did. One of the ten people sitting in the truck right now was not going back to the Elite. And the other nine of them would have a very easy run to wherever they were headed. Fernando couldn’t help but look at each one of their faces, taking it in as if it was the last time. One of them would be ‘lost’ in combat. One of them wouldn’t return. Or maybe something bigger was being exchanged. Maybe it wasn’t an agent but something bigger. Something the F1 Elite had been developing with one of the base elites. Maybe something like the design sketches for some other Machine…

Maybe revenge.

The van stopped and everyone, collectively, inhaled a nervous breath.

“Ok, everyone out the van, take position behind the rock formation then we’ll do a radio check.” Ecclestone’s voice poured out of the van’s speaker. Nico opened the doors, letting everyone climb out. He fell into place next to Lewis who sent him a nod.

“Agent Twenty, radio check, over.”

“Radio check clear, over.” Agent Twenty returned.

“Agent Twenty-Two, radio check, over.”

“Radio check clear, over.” Agent Twenty-Two muttered, loading his gun.

“Agent Thirteen, radio check, over.”

“Radio check clear, over.” Agent Thirteen nodded.

“Agent Eight, radio check, over.”

“Radio check clear, over.” Agent Eight sighed, slipping his locket down the front of his shirt.

“Agent Seven, radio check, over.”

“Radio check clear, over.” Agent Seven grunted. Sebastian looked over at him as Agent Seven released the button under his glove. He bounced his eyebrows at Sebastian before pulling his balaclava over his head.

“Agent Fourteen, radio check, over.” Andrea’s voice pooled down the radio. It was a bit confusing because the Sub-Elite Lieutenants had called the rest of them.

“Radio check clear, over.” Fernando muttered, Andrea’s last conversation being brought to the front of his head at the Italian’s voice.

_“Andrea, have done this before.” Fernando said, sliding his sniper on his back. Andrea had his arms folded._

_“There is something different with you lately, Fernando.” Andrea repeated. “Just asking.”_

_“Ok, Andrea.” Fernando took his Mission-Engineer’s shoulder. “I be careful.”_

“Agent Forty-Four, radio check, over.”

“Radio check clear, over.” Agent Forty-Four said.

“Agent Six, radio check, over.”

“Radio check clear, over.” Agent Six breathed deeply, calming himself. Agent Forty-Four squeezed his knee supportively.

“Agent Three, radio check, over.”

“Radio check clear, over.” Agent Three sent back to the control room.

“Agent One, radio check, over.”

“Radio check clear, over.” Agent One assured, still looking at Agent Seven.

“Alright gentlemen,” Ecclestone’s voice was back. “We’re sending the Juniors in first. Get down to the points of entrance and get them open, then let the Juniors through, over.”

“Let us spilt now.” Agent Eight said. “Then are in the correct point of access, over.”

“Alright. If we try and time the breaches at the same time we should, hopefully, buy us some time, over.” Agent Six said. All nodding in agreement the two teams separated, The Machine team heading to the east whilst the plans team headed down to the freezer route Agent One had found on their first attack on the P-Orsche only a month ago.

Running down the familiar route Fernando forced himself onwards. He was doing this to avenge Mark. He needed to go in there and kill everyone who had harmed him. That was his mission, irrelevant to what the others were doing. And the Elite could kick and scream and threaten him with termination but he didn’t care. He needed to do this for Mark. And he welcomed their termination; he found it difficult to find purpose without Mark. He had never felt so disconnected from the Elite in his entire life. Maybe that was because he understood how the Elite really worked now. Or maybe it was because they had stolen the one person he ever truly loved with cruel swiftness. All Fernando knew was that he would defy orders for the entire mission if it meant avenging Mark, irrelevant of the consequences.

Just before they reached the freezer room they took a sharp left, diving down a side route that would lead them to a lower point in the building. The large group of Juniors followed them, an echo of footsteps being their only sound of arrival. Agent Six held them all back with an arm as Agent Forty-Four threw two smoke canisters into the area in front of the door. Red lines appeared everywhere. Lasers. They were going to have to fight through lasers.

“Alright, Agent Twenty, over.” Agent Six nodded. Agent Twenty looked to Agent Twenty-Two.

“It’s fine. Go, over.” Agent Twenty-Two said, not breaking Agent Twenty’s eye contact. With a short nod and a deep breath, Agent Twenty took Agent Six’s place, making his way through the now visible lasers. There was a running sense of apprehension as Agent Twenty made his way into the field of lasers. One wrong move and they would be detected. One wrong move and Agent Twenty was dead. Over. Kaput. He would seize to exist. Maybe that was the plan. Maybe they were only stun lasers. Maybe Ecclestone had already handed Kevin over. Agent Twenty-Two stood incredibly close to Fernando, his tension radiating off his body like heat. The Brit’s eyes were following Agent Twenty’s every move, gasping slightly when the young Dain took a risky move that brought him a hair’s distance from the burning beam of light.

The first time Agent Twenty almost lost his footing Fernando had to hold Jenson back. Kevin placed his foot a millimetre from an ankle-height laser that had Jenson squeaking in fear. Kevin looked over at him, almost gliding straight into another. Jenson clawed at Fernando’s arm in desperation for nothing to go wrong.

“Careful, man, over.” Agent Forty-Four gasped as Agent Twenty lost his footing, nearly stumbling into another waist height lasers. Agent Twenty-Two grabbed at Fernando’s arm, gripping tightly to the Spaniard’s wrist. Fernando didn’t do anything. There was nothing he could do to assure Agent Twenty-Two. If Agent Twenty failed here he could compromise the whole mission and get himself killed. But if Agent Twenty did die there would be nothing Fernando nor any of them could do. That would be it. And Agent Twenty-Two would be left to grieve for weeks like Fernando had.

Approaching the last lasers was the worst. The smoke fog Agent Forty-Four had set into play had faded and it was hard to see where one laser started and where one stopped. Agent Twenty had looked back for some help but the four other Elite agents had no means of helping him. He was too far away from them for anyone to move in and take his place and, with no more smoke canisters, there was no way any of them could help his visibility.

“I cannot see anymore, Visibility is extremely poor over.” Agent Twenty whispered back to his comrades, the fear in his voice a little too clear. Agent Twenty-Two was on the verge of breaking Fernando’s wrist with the tightness of his grip.

“How close are you, over?” Dennis fired down the radio. Agent Twenty-Two took a step to move forwards to Agent Twenty’s aid but Fernando had to pull him back before he knocked Agent Six into the pathway of one of the first lasers.

“Close…” Agent Twenty breathed. Agent Twenty-Two was already shaking his head, ready to argue.

“Can you reach the code detector from there, over?” Agent One asked.

“Negative, over.”

“Then you have to move forwards, over.” Dennis said calmly. Agent Twenty-Two grabbed at his microphone.

“This is suicide, sir. Over.” Agent Twenty-Two barked.

“Agent Twenty, continue moving forwards, over.” Dennis instructed, ignoring Agent Twenty-Two. Agent Twenty looked back towards the group of Agents, looking for Twenty-Two. Agent Twenty-Two was frantically shaking his head but Twenty turned away from him, looking at his feet and taking deep breaths.

“Sorry…” Agent Twenty muttered. Jenson gripped painfully tightly to Fernando’s shoulder as Agent Twenty took the next step.

And he ducked under what he thought was another laser.

One pivot over another laser before he rolled under the two low ones.

Arching his back over one as he slid through a gap that wasn’t very wide and was constantly getting harder to see.

Absolutely nothing.

“Alright, I’m through, over.” Agent Twenty breathed down the radio. Agent Twenty-Two’s grip instantly relaxed on Fernando.

“Ok, push the code device into the lock, over.” Lieutenant Boullier ordered. Agent Twenty nodded, still breathing deeply.

“Six…Two… Seven, five… Zero, four, seven… Zero, four, three… Seven, three… That’s is, over.” Agent Twenty said.

“We’re in the external, over.” Agent Three confirmed.

“Excellent, now disable the lasers, over.” Horner ordered. There was a moment of silence where the Plans team waited. The sound of the electricity being down powered was followed by the crowd of Juniors moving towards the door. Agent Forty-Four and Six connected their metal cutters to the door, both ready to cut a half circle, completing the whole. Agent Twenty fell in line between Agent Twenty-Two and Fernando in the cover of the wall to the left.

“Ready, over.” Agent Forty-Four whispered.

“Confirm, on three.” Agent Eight said.

“One…” Everyone held their breath as Major Lopez started counting. “Two…” Fernando, Agent Twenty and Twenty-Two loaded their guns, readying themselves for potential attack. “Three.” There was the sharp sound of metal sparking as the two Silver agents worked around their half of the circle.

“We’ve got detection, over.” Agent Seven called.

“Throw a smoke screen in there.” Domenicali sent back. “To be safe, throw on down as well, Agent Fourteen. Over.” Fernando stepped around Agent Twenty, pulling the pin on the canister strapped to his leg and throwing it down the half open slice in the door.

“In! Go! GO!” Agent Thirteen yelled at the Juniors. Then there was nothing. The Plans team wouldn’t know if the Machine team had successfully breached the building until it was confirmed. But they barely had time to think about that. Almost as soon as the Machine team had got in Agent Six was screaming at the present Juniors. Fernando watched as they all disappeared, guns poised. But there was silence. Each Agent looked at the other, wondering if they had managed to successfully get in undetected. Agent Twenty-Two poked his head out of cover, looking down the hallway where their Juniors were moving around slowly, guns poised. Nothing. There was no ulterior threat. The corridor was clear.

“I think we’re clear, over.” Agent Six confirmed. Agent Twenty-Two nodded.

“Juniors are open, lets move forwards into cover inside the building and assess our route, over.” Agent Twenty-Two explained.

“Sounds like a plan, over.” Agent Twenty agreed.

“Sir!” One of the Juniors yelled back. “I think it’s safe! No detec-!” All five agents held their breath as the young voice was suddenly cut off. Each of them exchanged a look, waiting to hear from another Junior or, potentially something worse. No sound of death was heard. No sound of bullets. No sound of panicked shouts.

“Do we move onwards, over?” Agent Forty-Four asked. Agent Twenty-Two poked his head out of cover to assess the situation again.

But then bullet fire ripped through the air.

“Onwards, over!” Fernando bit, pushing passed Agent Twenty-Two. Agent Twenty-Two tried to hold him back.

“This is suicide, over!” Agent Twenty-Two yelled at Fernando. Fernando shoved him off.

“Have to move forwards. Juniors are in place to protect us. Over.” Fernando seethed. Agent Six fell beside Fernando as he dashed into the corridor, followed by the rest of them. They all filtered into crevices in the walls, taking out as many as the opposing force as they could. But their Juniors were falling like dominos. Each shot making impact with one of their arms or legs, rendering them motionless. Not dead, but unable to keep fighting.

“We’ve got Specials, over!” Agent Three screamed down the radio. Fernando cursed, gritting his teeth as he reloaded his gun. He was in the wrong place. He needed to be where the Specials were.

“We need back up!” Agent Eight screeched.

“No back-up. You have no back-up, over.” Lieutenant Lowe repeated.

“We’ve got to move. Over.” Agent Seven gritted. Fernando was trying to find a way through the screen of P-Orsche Juniors.

“Go forwards, run for the cover - distance of fifteen metres, over.” Agent One called.

They were met with more silence on the radio.

“They’re falling back down here, over.” Agent Twenty-Two said. Fernando dipped his head out from around the wall, seeing the unharmed Juniors trying to force the P-Orsche juniors backwards. But they were retreating. The P-Orsche Juniors were dashing off to wherever they had been called to.

“Stand down, soldiers!” Agent Forty-Four called. Breathing heavily and with shaking limbs, the unarmed Juniors fell back, moving quickly to tend to their fallen friends. Some of them were dead, but, luckily, most were moving. It was a real tribute to the Elite’s battle uniforms. One Junior continued to fire at the bodies of the dead P-Orsche Juniors. Agent Six moved swiftly to him once the coast was clear. He touched his shoulder, causing the young boy to stop firing.

“Stand down, Soldier.” Agent Six said softly. The young Junior looked up at him with tear filled eyes, breathing extremely heavily, and Agent Six had to fight all of his instincts to not pull the boy into a tight embrace.

“Come on then, before they come back. Over.” Fernando bit, moving down the corridor. Agent Six and Forty-Four exchanged a look before following him. It took Agent Twenty-Two to the end of the corridor to realise Agent Twenty wasn’t with him. He turned around, frowning, to see Agent Twenty looking down at one of the Juniors.

“Agent,” Jenson said softly, touching Kevin’s arm. Kevin continued to look down at the dead Junior by his feet. A shot wound to the head. Without needing it confirmed Kevin knew he was dead. Jenson moved both of their microphones from their mouths. “Kevin, come on.” He said softer, pulling on Kevin’s arm.

“I knew him.” Kevin muttered, feeling the tears in his eyes. Jenson tried harder to pull him away. “He was there on the attack. You spoke to him…”

“Kevin we need to move. Another wave could come at any moment.”

“And just leave him here?” Kevin spat, finally looking up at Jenson, tears splashing down his face. Jenson cupped his cheek.

“You’re an Agent, Kevin.” Jenson reminded him. “You know why they’re here.”

“I used to play football with him. He was really good.” Kevin snarled through gritted teeth, his eyes pouring moisture down his face. Jenson pulled him close, seeing his innocence, his youth.

“You know why they are here.” Jenson repeated. Kevin shook his head.

“I’m done.” He spat. Jenson gripped tighter to him.

“Kevin, we need to move. Do this later. You grieve later. Right now there is too much danger.” Jenson said, shaking the Dain. Kevin pushed away from him.

“No! I’m done! I don’t want to do this anymore!”

“What’s going on, Agent Twenty-Two, over?” Boullier asked. Jenson shook his head, gripping Kevin’s arms and pulling his microphone back to his mouth.

“Nothing, Sir. Just got a bit lost. Over.”

“Alright, come on then, over.” Agent Six said. Jenson forced Kevin down the corridor, dragging him through the carnage of Juniors as Kevin fought desperately to get back to his fallen friend.

“STOP IT! GET OFF! GET OFF ME!”

“Kevin, you’re going to get yourself killed!” Jenson snarled, pulling Kevin round the corner. He rounded on the young Agent, wrapping his arms tightly around him and sinking them to the floor, letting Kevin sob. “You need to calm down.”

“I… Do not… Jense… Cannot…” Kevin gasped, trying to stop the tears.

“We grieve him later, Ok? Now you need to calm down and we need to go.”

“Do not want to do this anymore…”

“This is your first mission, Kevin. Don’t let it ruin you…” Jenson cooed, kissing the top of Kevin’s head and burying his nose in the Dain’s hair. Jenson couldn’t loose Kevin like this. Not now he had only just found him.

“More fire on the left, over.” Agent Thirteen said.

“Free run against the wall if we go now, over.” Agent One returned.

“That would mean leaving the Juniors open to fire, over.” Agent Three stated.

“Risk it. Run, over.” Horner ordered coolly.

“About time.” Fernando sighed as Agent Twenty and Twenty-Two finally fell into cover behind him. There was an explosion from above them that had them all looking up. Agent Twenty gripped tightly to Agent Twenty-Two’s arm, accepting the gently words the Brit poured in his ear.

“Alright…” Agent Six said dubiously. “Let’s go. Over.”

-

“Horner, we risk it we could loose them all, over.” Agent Eight barked. Sebastian sent a worried look Kimi’s way.

“That’s the risk. They know why they are here, over.” Horner returned smoothly. Agent Eight gritted his teeth.

“Look, we have a clear run. Who knows how long that will last, over.” Kimi shot, shoving Sebastian behind him and closer to the wall of cover. Sebastian hated how that left him possibly in sight range of the attacking P-Orsche agents.

“But why is it clear, over?” Agent Eight argued. Kimi rolled his eyes.

“Why does that matter, Agent Eight?” Domenicali asked. “Is clear so take it, over.”

“Seems too convenient. Over.” Agent Eight returned.

“Are moving, over.” Agent Thirteen spat, shoving Agent Eight forwards. Agent Three held them back.

“He has a point. Over.” Agent Three said dubiously.

“What is this, over?” Horner barked.

“It’s weirdly clear, over.” Agent Three shrugged.

“One of you or all of you move forwards, now! I will not have this mission compromised because you will not move, over.” Lopez snarled. Agent Three and Eight exchanged a look.

“Moving forwards, over.” Agent Eight sighed. Agent Three caught his wrist.

“Don’t.” Agent Three said desperately. Agent Eight removed his grip, gifting him a small smile.

“We have to move forwards, Agent Three.”

“It’s not safe. We know that.”

“Is no proof.”

“Romain-” Daniel tried. But Romain just shook his head.

“Will come with you, over.” Kimi said, stepping forwards. Sebastian gripped his arm.

“Me too. Over.” Kimi turned back on him, pushing his towards Agent Thirteen.

“Stay here. We check is safe.”

“No! I’m coming with you.” Sebastian stated. Kimi shook his head.

“Go, Romain.” Kimi shot, making sure Agent Thirteen had a tight hold on Sebastian. Kimi lead the way across the floor, diving to the right and taking cover against the wall as Agent Eight echoed him on the left. With his gun poised, Kimi lead Agent Eight forwards, checking the balconies for awaiting P-Orsche agents as Agent Eight scoured the floor. “Looks clear, over.” Kimi said, turning to Romain. Romain nodded slowly, his eyes locked on something.

“Uh huh…” Romain sighed, dropping his gun. Kimi turned back to the other agents.

“Clear, move forwar-”

“-Wait.” Romain said, holding up a hand. Kimi frowned at him before falling into stance beside him, poising his gun. “Hang back, Agent Seven.”

“Staying as cover, over.” Kimi grunted, flicking off the safety on his gun.

“Hang back.”

“Am staying right here, over.” Kimi bit, holding his gun tighter as Romain touched his shoulder.

“Kimi-?” Sebastian said delicately. But it was too late. The wall to the right blew out, almost in slow motion, as Romain and Kimi continued to move forwards. Sebastian watched as Kimi’s body was thrown to the left, debris sucking him out of view. Romain had been slightly in front.

Daniel fought to catch Sebastian as he dashed forwards, slipping through his fingers. Both Pastor and Daniel dashed after the crazed, determined Sebastian. Pastor threw him to the floor, covering the German with his body as the wall closer blew out, showering them in debris. Sebastian squirmed to get up, screaming Kimi’s name, but Pastor held him still as more debris cluttered over them. Daniel rushed forwards first, pulling at the rubble that had looked to crush their fellow two agents. Sebastian was running, leaving Pastor behind him, and ripping up the debris.

“Kimi? Kimi!” Sebastian pleaded for a sign of life from the fallen Finn. He couldn’t watch Kimi die twice. No, no. No he needed Kimi back here. So he could hold him. Feel his heartbeat. “KIMI!”

“Ro…” Kimi coughed up the dust he had inhaled, dragging himself forwards towards where the Frenchman had been. Shoving concrete out from under himself he rolled down to the point when Romain should have been. Kimi’s radio was busted, the broken shards digging into his leg and the microphone having punctured into his left eye, causing it to spill over with moisture. Still coughing he dragged himself to his feet. His right foot hurt a little, but that seemed to be the only damage. Bar his lungful of dust. Limping slightly he moved to where he could see Romain’s foot. “Romain?” Kimi wheezed, clutching his side as he dragged the obliterated wall off of his ex-teammate. Maybe he did have more damage. He looked down at his side to see no damage but feel splintering pain. Possibly a broken rib? Internal bleeding? “Romain?”

“Ki…” A weak voice returned. Kimi doubled his efforts to uncover Romain, forcing himself to keep breathing and working through the body-aching pain rippling through him. When Kimi finally revealed the Frenchman he knew it was too late. Impaled through Romain’s body was a shard of some sort of debris, cutting through his diaphragm and potentially tearing the bottom of his lungs. From the way Romain was gasping for breath Kimi had to think the latter was true. He caught the back of Romain’s neck, lifting it slightly so Romain could see him. But there was nothing left to be done. Blood rushed from the top of Romain’s head, really ending things for him. “Kimi…”

“Is Ok, Romain. Am right here. Have got you.” Kimi nodded, pulling the busted microphone that had punctured Romain’s lip away from his face. “Have got you.”

“Take… Take care of Seb…. Kimi…” Romain spluttered, gripping tightly to Kimi’s shirt with one hand as the other explored the shrapnel sticking out of his chest. “Take care of Seb…”

“Ok… Ok, Romain…” Kimi nodded, blinking the tears from his eyes. Romain made sure to fix his warm brown eyes on Kimi’s icy blue ones before gasping and gagging for more breath.

“L-l-l-l… Loves you, Kimi… He loves you….” Romain panted, his grip tightening in Kimi’s shirt as his body panicked from the loss of oxygen. He had seconds left.

“Love him too. Will protect him. Will save him.” Kimi nodded, unable to stop the tears. He knew Romain. He had worked with Romain. Romain didn’t deserve this. Romain gasped once more for breath.

“Tell… Tell Sacha and… And M-M…” Coughing and gasping took over his voice. Romain panicked. He needed to say these last words. “And Marion… Sacha and Marion I l-l-love….” Kimi’s eyes widened as the grip fell from his shirt.

He shook Romain a little.

But nothing.

Romain’s eyes had glazed over.

Lost their warmth.

Kimi frowned down at where Romain’s second hand was holding his in place on his chest.

Right where his heart should be beating.

But it wasn’t.

That wasn’t what had the Finn frowning.

There was a bump.

A bump that shouldn’t have been there.

Kimi moved Romain’s shirt slightly to see the little locket around Romain’s neck.

He pulled it from the Frenchman’s throat.

And unclipped it.

Looking down at the small boy and the woman.

Sacha and Marion.

Kimi looked back at Romain.

Dead Romain.

_Tell Sacha and Marion I love…_

Kimi pulled Romain’s dead body into a tight embrace, sobbing into his neck.

“KIMI!” Sebastian screamed, dashing over to the crying Finn. Kimi loosened his grip on Romain as Sebastian moved over to him, checking him for any sighs of damage. He tried desperately to dry Kimi’s tears but they kept coming. Kimi fell into Sebastian’s embrace, sobbing his heart out as Daniel and Pastor took in the scene in front of them.

“Is everyone alright on the Machine team, over?” Domenicali’s voice asked. Pastor looked down at Romain as Daniel tried to lift his limp body from the shard breaking through his torso. Pastor felt lightheaded. The room was swaying slightly. Daniel was asking him for help. Daniel was asking him to help move Romain. But there was something about the fact it was him that forced him still. It couldn’t be right. Romain couldn’t be dead. Pastor tried to blink the tears from his eyes. Pastor would not cry about this. He didn’t get attached to his fellow agents for this reason. He would not cry.

“Agent… A-Agent Eight is down… Over.” Pastor muttered, looking down at Romain’s dead eyes. He slid them closed, his hand resting on the point where he should feel a heartbeat. But there was nothing. Pastor squinted his eyes closed, forcing the tears to go away, rushing down his face. Maybe it was because he had spent the last few weeks working with Romain, getting to know him. That could be why he couldn’t move for sobs. Catching his breath, Pastor somehow helped Daniel lift Romain free.

“We have to move forwards…” Daniel admitted begrudgingly as they set Romain gently on the floor.

“And leave him here?” Pastor bit, glaring up at the Australian.

“We can’t afford to loose another Agent on this.” Daniel muttered sadly. Pastor got to his feet.

“If you think-”

“-Daniel’s right.” Kimi said thickly, drying his eyes. Sebastian watched him cautiously. “We have to move on.”

“Am not leaving him here!” Pastor yelled. Sebastian followed Kimi to his feet, not able to look at Romain.

“You have to, Agent Thirteen. Over.” Lopez said softly. Pastor shook his head, getting to his feet, and grabbing his discarded sub machine gun. He moved back towards the Juniors, firing randomly at the P-Orsche fighters and watching them all fall like stuffed animals. The Juniors looked round as the machine gun fire died down and each of the P-Orsche agents fell, dead, in front of them. Pastor was panting hard, his teeth grinding together.

“You two!” Pastor barked, pointing at a random two Juniors. They moved over to him. “Take him….” Pastor bit back the tears, pointing over at Romain’s dead body. “Take him back to the van, alright? Don’t get yourselves killed on the way! You’re one mission is to get him back to the van, understood!”

“Yes, Sir.” The Juniors nodded, moving over to Romain. The rest of the Juniors looked at Pastor for instructions.

“We go on! And no one else is going to die! ALRIGHT!” Pastor barked. The Juniors seemed inspired by him and happily followed him onwards. Pastor marched back to the others with new determination. He had about fifteen Juniors with him and he was resolute that none of them would die. Leaving two more Juniors with the first two to get Romain back to the van safely, Pastor nodded at the other agents and they moved onwards. Each with Romain’s death hanging over their heads.

Kimi forced himself to bury his sadness for now. With Romain’s locket securely hidden inside his jacket Kimi sought out his revenge on any P-Orsche agents he could find.

-

“Agent Eight is down?” Agent Six asked, pressing his radio to his ear.

“Yes…” Lopez said sadly. “But that’s not the focus. Stay on target, over.” He barked.

“Major Lopez, do you need to stand down for a moment?” Boullier said thickly. Boullier was fighting back the tears. After all he had worked with Romain for a long time as well.

“No. I’m fine.” Lopez bit harshly.

“Alright, onwards… Over.” Agent Forty-Four said weakly.

“Stay close to me.” Agent Twenty-Two said to Agent Twenty, moving his microphone from his mouth. Agent Twenty nodded, linking his fingers through Agent Twenty-Two’s offering ones.

Fernando stopped, glaring off to the left.

He could see them, but they definitely hadn’t seen him. Two Specials sat in what looked like a snipe point. But they had a machine gun set up. One on the gun, one ready to feed the ammunition into the gun. They were waiting. For what team, Fernando didn’t know. But he knew he had to stop them. This would mean two less people he had to kill and less potential risk for his fellow agents. Moving forwards quietly, Fernando dove into the shadows about ten yards from them, pressing himself into the wall. He checked over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t been detected before pulling his pistol from the holster at his knee, loading a new cartridge.

“Agent Fourteen, Over?” Agent Twenty-Two’s voice pooled into his ear. Fernando looked up, back in the direction he had just come, to see his four fellow agents looking his way. Fernando pointed over his shoulder towards the specials, pressing the barrel of his gun to his lips in a ‘shh’ motion.

“What’s going on, over?” Lowe asked.

“Agent Fourteen has detected two threats, over.” Agent Twenty returned. Fernando held his hand up stopping any of them from advancing. This was his kill. No one was going to take it from him. He pressed his microphone close to his mouth.

“Stay where you are. If too many of us come they will detect us, over.” Fernando whispered frantically. Three of the agents hung back into their cover.

“Agent Twenty-Two?” Agent Twenty said softly.

“Stay where you are, over.” Fernando sent harshly in his quietest voice. Agent Twenty-Two continued to plan a move forwards.

“I’m coming as back-up, over.” Agent Twenty-Two said. Fernando shook his head.

“Negative. Stay where you are, over.”

“Stop being ridiculous. There are two of them; I’m coming to help. Over.”

“Agent Twenty, hold him back, over.” Fernando spat, turning on his heels and rushing over to the Specials. He snapped the microphone off his radio headset as he moved, hearing the kafuffle of Agent Twenty trying to restrain Twenty-Two. But it was too late for anyone to help Fernando.

The Special on the gun was unprepared. Fernando came up behind him, gripping the sides of his head and cracking his neck to the left, leaving him to fall dead by his feet. The second Special reached for his radio but Fernando held his gun to his head, clicking off the safety.

“Do not.” Fernando gritted, feeling a hot rage burn through him. The startled Special seemed shocked, unable to move. Fernando pulled the dead Special’s balaclava off, revealing an unknown face. “What was his name?” Fernando barked, returning his attention to the Special at gunpoint. The Special pushed his lips tightly together. Fernando bared his teeth. “Tell me his name.”

“I will not tell you anything.” the Special shot. Fernando turned his gun on the dead Special, planting a bullet deep in his head.

“Tell me his name.” The Special still sat still, not uttering a word. Fernando took his hand, pressing it flat on the floor and resting the barrel of his gun on the base of his index finger. “Tell me his name, or this gets worse.”

“Agent Fourteen-?”

“-What’s going on, over?” Voices were calling down his radio but Fernando was too focused on his task. The Special was searching his eyes, looking for a moment of wavering. But there wasn’t one. Fernando would never waver on the fact he wanted everyone dead who had lead to him loosing Mark forever. The Special dropped his eyes to his dead friend.

“Marc Lieb…” He muttered, still not looking at Fernando. Fernando nodded, letting his hand free and pressing his gun into the Special’s forehead instead.

“And yours?” Fernando asked, pulling Marc’s radio free from his corpse.

“Mine?”

“Yes, your name.” Fernando stated, looking over at the Special with a bored expression. The Special frowned.

“R-Romain.” The Special muttered. Fernando felt his finger twitch on the trigger. He would get revenge for their Romain, but he needed information first.

“Alright, Romain, you are now going to tell me where I will find Fritz.” Fernando ordered. Romain scoffed at him.

“I would not ever-”

“-Will give you three. Then I shoot.” Fernando bit, pressing the gun closer to Romain’s head. The P-Orsche Special swallowed nervously.

“Do not know where he is…” Romain breathed. Fernando tapped the radio in his ear.

“Check then.” He spat, pressing Marc’s P-Orsche radio into his own. “And no secret codes to let them know am here. Simply ask.” Fernando glared, causing a ring to cut into Romain’s face where he held the gun in place. Romain cleared his throat.

“P-Fourteen-B calling P-Leader, over.” Romain muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.

“P-Leader, over.” Fernando gritted his teeth tightly as Fritz’s voice sounded from the device in his hand.

“Is your position compromised, over?” Romain asked.

“No, position is steady. P-Twenty-A and P-Fourteen-A are holding position, over.”

“Threat has breached, sir, over.”

“Hold position, catch the higher team as they cross the balcony, over.”

“Where is your position, over?”

“My position, over?”

“I want to make sure the threat is forced the other way. Over.”

“My position is stable, over.”

“Which direction, over?”

“Up on base level, observation desk, over.” Fritz confirmed. Fernando nodded. Romain felt the pressure of his gun slip.

“Threat has-” The message was never finished as Fernando threw Romain across the room, crushing the radio under his foot. He held the gun up in Romain’s direction. Without even holding for a plead of mercy or to set up a hostage term Fernando sent the bullet spinning towards Romain’s head, bursting his brains against the back wall.

“Would someone please tell me what is going on, over!” Domenicali yelled down the radios. Fernando didn’t return to his team, instead walking straight passed them.

“Fernando,” Jenson grabbed his wrist, stopping him from moving further.

“Tell them the threat is mute. And then go, have a clear run across the balcony.” Fernando said, pulling from Jenson’s grip. Jenson followed after him.

“Where are you going?”

“Have my own mission to complete.” Fernando bit, pushing Jenson back towards the Elite team. “Stay with Kevin.”

“No, Fernando, you’re not running off on your own.” Jenson barked, pulling Fernando back. Fernando caught him with his elbow and pushed the Brit up against the wall.

“The Specials will know I kill them soon. Need to go now or will be detected.” Fernando glared. Jenson tried to push him off.

“We all go, all five of us.” Jenson instructed. Fernando shook his head, pushing back into Jenson and letting him slid to the floor.

“No. Am on my own mission.”

“Fernando, this won’t bring him back!” Jenson tired, pushing to his feet. He grabbed Fernando’s ankle, diving to the floor, as the Spaniard tried to move away. Fernando sighed, turning his gun on Jenson.

“Let go.”

“Fernando, this is ridiculous.” Jenson bit, glaring up at Fernando. The safety clicked as Fernando unlocked it on his gun.

“Let go of me.”

“I’m not letting you run off unprotected! No!” Jenson yelled.

“Will shoot you.” Fernando tried, his voice shaking slightly. Jenson shook his head.

“Fernando, put the gun down.” Kevin approached slowly, cautiously. Fernando shook his head, turning the gun on Kevin, forcing the Dain to stop advancing. He was still glaring at Jenson.

“Let go of me or I shoot him.” Fernando growled. Kevin swallowed painfully.

“You won’t.” Jenson shot. Fernando shot the floor three feet from Kevin, making the Dain flinch and fall to the ground.

“I will.”

“What is going on, over?” Boullier asked, his concern from the silence on the radios clear in his voice.

“Agent Fourteen has go mad, over.” Nico muttered quietly. Fernando rolled his eyes.

“Will count to three.” Fernando bit, pointing his gun, once again, at Kevin. Jenson held his leg tighter, matching his intense glare.

“You won’t shoot him.” Jenson spat. Kevin sent Jenson a dubious look.

“One.” Fernando started.

“Jenson-?”

“-It’s Ok, Kevin. He’s not going to shoot you.”

“Two.” Fernando pressed. Lewis and Nico exchanged a look.

“Don’t risk it, man. If he wants to go off and get himself killed let him.” Lewis tried. Jenson and Fernando continued to glare at each other.

“Jenson, please.” Kevin whispered, his voice barely audible. Fernando’s hand shook slightly. Jenson knew he would never say three. He would never shoot Kevin. But Kevin’s completely broken voice had Jenson releasing Fernando to scoop him into his arms. Fernando closed his eyes, taking deep breaths as he now aimed his gun at the pair, Jenson’s back held firmly to him. When Fernando opened his eyes he just saw Mark and him. What the P-Orsche and F-1 Elite had collectively snatched away from him. And it hurt to see. It hurt to see everything he wanted and know he could never have it again. He blinked the tears down his face. Allowing the feeling to wash through him. The feeling he channelled into the rage that would see him burn down this place until every living soul that ever broke Mark was dead.

“Go on.” Fernando spat, dropping his aim. “Before you get detected. Is a clear run along the balcony.” The Spaniard turned on his heels before any of them found their voice to stop him. He moved swiftly down the corridor, gun poised and ready as he made him way towards the observation deck.

“JENSON!” Kevin screamed. But his scream was too late. Jenson propelled himself into Fernando’s back, smashing the Spaniard to the floor. Fernando tried to push Jenson off him or unseat the Brit but the older man overpowered him, rolling him onto his back. Fernando could see Nico and Lewis trying to drag Kevin onwards but he was resisted. He refused to leave Jenson.

“You really think that was fucking clever?” Jenson raged, his microphone clearly nowhere near his mouth as he pressed the barrel of his gun to Fernando’s head. “How about I count to three and we see how well you hold up!” Fernando managed to get a foot onto Jenson’s stomach and kicked the Brit off him, his gun spinning off into the shadows.

“I tell you to move on!” Fernando yelled, gesturing with his gun. “Stay with Kevin. Protect him!”

“So you can threaten the poor bastard!” Jenson returned, getting to his feet. “You’re coming with us.”

“Fuck. Off.” Fernando bit, turning on his heels. Jenson slammed him face first against the wall, dragging him backwards.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Jenson panted, forcing Fernando backwards. Catching Jenson’s wrist on his back, Fernando threw his body weight round one hundred and eighty degrees, slamming his palm into the centre of Jenson’s back and pressing him into the wall.

“I go now. You go on.” Fernando spat in Jenson’s ear, bending his arm back into a lock. Jenson tried to kick back but Fernando had him pinned against the wall too well. “Go to Kevin.”

“You fucking-!”

“-Am sorry I have to do that but you do not listen. Is important I go. Can create a diversion.”

“What ever you’re doing, Fernando, it’s not going to bring him back. You can kill all of them if you want but he’s still gone. Maybe this isn’t the way to go about this. Maybe you need closure in some other way.” Jenson tried but Fernando was shaking his head, already moving away.

“Do not understand, Jenson. Has to be done like this.” Fernando muttered. Jenson turned to look at him.

“Then let me come with you.” Jenson breathed. “Two of us is better than one, mate.”

“Three.” Kevin corrected, moving to Jenson’s side. Fernando rolled his eyes.

“No.” He shot at them both, moving back down that corridor. Maybe he could have made the exception for Jenson but there was no way he was taking them both forwards. He couldn’t risk the fact one of them might get killed. That was something else on his conscience. The Elite already tore apart one couple this month, Fernando refused to see them do it again.

“Kevin, go back.” Jenson said softly as Fernando moved back into the shadows.

“No way.” The Dain returned. Fernando sighed as their voices got closer.

“We’ll be fine, Kevin. You need to go back to the team.”

“Am not leaving you.” Kevin said firmly. “Besides, they have already gone on.”

“This isn’t some sort of game, Kevin.”

“Am not leaving you, Jenson.”

“Kev-”

“-You tell me to stay close. So I do.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Be quiet.” Fernando chastened, stopping at the edge of the wall. Peering round their cover, Fernando saw the three agents marking the door to what he assumed was the stairwell. Fernando hung back, slipping the silencer from his pocket and attaching it to his gun. “Go now.” Fernando whispered, causing Jenson to scoff.

“Go _now_? As oppose to following you onwards and leaving later?” Jenson returned quietly.

“Do not need you.” Fernando shrugged bluntly.

“Ok. Well we wanted to go this way anyway, right, Kevin?”

“Absolutely.” Kevin nodded soundlessly, poising his gun. Fernando lowered it to the floor.

“No.”

“You don’t have the right to tell us what to do, Fernando.” Jenson whispered back. “So we’ll cover you from behind.”

“Is too risky. Go back through the clear run.” Fernando urged in a voice barely over a whisper.

“You think that is still clear now?” Kevin returned sceptically in a quiet voice. Fernando rolled his eyes. “Are staying here.”

“Then stay here. Right here.” Fernando shot angrily, diving round the corner and crossing the corridor. With no means of radio communication, Fernando knew they had to follow the instructions he gave them.

“Fernando.” Jenson hissed, causing the Spaniard to look away from the three agents and over to his pair of tag-alongs. “We’ll move forwards and cover you.”

“No!” Fernando hissed back. It was of the upmost importance that Fernando stayed undetected. If he wanted any chance of catching the Specials undetected he needed to move invisibly. “Stay there.” Fernando mouthed with pleading eyes. Jenson held his hand against Kevin to stop him moving forwards, nodding to Fernando. Taking a deep breath, Fernando took out the agent standing by the door with a silent bullet, watching as he slumped to the floor, blood running down the centre of his face. His fellow comrades turned to see him fall, but with in seconds they were both dead too. Without checking back to Jenson and Kevin Fernando moved down the corridor, gun poised.

“What now?” Jenson muttered in Fernando’s ear, falling into position beside him. Fernando stopped, shaking his head.

“Leave.”

“What part of ‘we’re not doing that’ are you failing to understand?” Jenson asked with a frown. Fernando shook his head.

“Go where is safe. Catch up with Nico and Lewis.” Fernando said gently.

“Are staying with you.” Kevin added, Jenson nodding in agreement. Fernando sighed.

“You do not get it…” Fernando tried, but as he looked back at Jenson and Kevin he noticed something that made his blood run cold.

They had been detected.

The giveaway red dot of the laser sight, off some sort of gun, resting on Jenson’s chest was signal enough. Sliding his pistol back in the holster down his leg and switching for his sub-machine gun in quick succession, he shoved Jenson into Kevin and out of the way of the red dot. Jenson frowned at him from the floor. “Stay down. Have been detected.” Fernando shot; pressing himself against the wall opposite to the one they had been leaning on. Jenson opened his mouth, ready to argue with Fernando but Kevin indicated the red dot on the wall, rendering Jenson mute. Slowly, the Brit nodded, getting to his feet and echoing Fernando’s position with his own sub-machine.

“When you’re ready.” Jenson nodded. Kevin moved to Jenson’s side, standing close. Fernando nodded and the two of them sent rapid fire into the crevice they believed the assailants were hiding in. The air was full of the sound of ricocheting bullets. With no clue what or who or if they were making impact, Jenson and Fernando fired on. “We need to cross over!” Jenson yelled back to Fernando, indicating to the stairwell. Fernando nodded, readying himself to dive for the door and cover as Jenson and Kevin entered the stairwell.

It was such a simple plan.

With so little that could potentially go wrong.

It would have taken such little time.

Fernando just had to keep firing as Jenson and Kevin moved behind him.

But the red dot was back.

Right in the centre of Jenson’s forehead.

“NO!”

Kevin yelled.

Then there was a bang.

The wall behind Jenson and Fernando obliterating on impact.

Throwing Fernando forwards.

Smacking his head on the opposite wall.

As the dust settled the ringing began in Fernando’s ears.

And then shots could be heard.

“Leave the target! Leave the target! Dispose of the extras!”

Orders were being yelled.

Fernando panicked.

Who was the target?

Who were the extras?

“Fernando…”

Someone was calling from his left.

Fernando turned to their voice.

Jenson’s blood coloured face came into view.

“Fernando, go on. We’ll cover you from here.”

More shots.

Jenson shook his shoulder insistently.

“Fernando!”

“Kevin…?” Fernando asked weakly.

Jenson didn’t answer.

He hauled Fernando to his feet.

Shoving him towards the stairs.

Fernando caught sight of the pale boy before he disappeared around the corner.

Eyes closed.

Too much blood.

Fernando knew without confirmation.

Kevin had taken the shot for Jenson.

To what extent, Fernando didn’t know, but he gave himself a couple of seconds to calm down once he was inside the stairwell. He needed to be sharp when it came to taking down Fritz. He needed to not be on the verge of tears. Kevin might not be dead. Yes, the Dain looked dead but Fernando didn’t know that. _We’ll_ _cover you._ Jenson had said ‘we’ll’. Though maybe Jenson was being delusional. Kidding himself because right now the truth was too much to deal with. And with the imminent threat of more attackers Jenson needed to be ready to fight. Besides, if Kevin was the target the P-Orsche would patch him up.

Fernando didn’t like that idea either.

Composing himself, Fernando took the steps two at a time, taking another pistol from the holster at his back and pushing the one from his knee into the now vacant space. Fernando preferred his first pistol much more to his spare but he wanted to know he had a reliable weapon close to hand, easy to retrieve and that could be snuck out of it’s hiding place invisibly if needs called for it.

Dashing onto the base deck (observation deck) Fernando pressed himself into the wall, loading his gun with a new cartridge as a precaution. He saw the Specials on guard of the door with his first check. He could have killed them from his position but he wanted no detection for this. He wanted to sneak in, kill Fritz with no disruption and then he could get the two Specials on his way out. He just needed the Specials gone. He observed for ten minutes, watching as the two Specials stood like rocks on either side of the door Fritz was most definitely hiding behind. Every few minutes he got the opportunity to dash forwards to closer cover but there was never enough time to get to the door, open the door and sneak in the door without one of the Specials, at least, looking back down the corridor.

“Timo?” One of them said. Fernando’s jaw locked. Thoughts of going undetected abandoned he aimed his pistol with silencer at the Special who didn’t speak, readying himself to kill the man who cause Mark most pain.

“What is it, Neel?” Timo bit. Fernando stalled. Which one did he want to kill first? Because, yes, Timo had captured Mark and let Nick beat the shit out of Mark and stood by and let Mark be hurt like he was but wasn’t all of this shit Neel’s invention? Fernando remembered reading about the mind room and his aim automatically switched to Neel.

“Brendon has sent up a code sixty two.” Neel said calmly. Timo nodded, lowering his gun.

“Then we better get right on that.” Timo nodded. Neel followed suit in lowering his gun. Confusion wasn’t the word as Fernando watched the two Specials leave their post and head down the corridor to the left. He waited, expecting them to come back but after three minutes Fernando felt he was pushing his luck. He moved down the corridor, rotating round to cover his back every couple of steps. Checking both directions at the end of the corridor, Fernando dove forwards, opening the door and slipping inside. Being cautious to make as little noise as possible, Fernando shut the door slowly, wincing a little as it snapped shut.

“It’s very impressive.” The undeniable voice of Fritz said. Fernando was startled by the sudden sound, flinching as he spun around. But he couldn’t see anyone, just like he couldn’t be seen. The room was full of a dim blue glow. Shining from what, Fernando didn’t know. Gun poised he looked into the room, still holding cover, and saw the back of the man he was desperate to kill. “You’re training.” Fritz continued, doing something on his desk. “But the problem is, you’ve now killed two more of my agents. And that really doesn’t sit well with me…” From hiding behind the wall, Fernando aimed his gun at the back of Fritz’s head. He could either do this silently or state his place. And silent just seemed too merciful. “Come on, now. Enough with the hiding. Come out where I can see you.” Fritz demanded, turning to face the room. Fernando sunk lower to the floor, burying himself in shadows.

But it didn’t matter.

“I know you’re by the door.” Fritz said, leaning back against his desk. “Please don’t tell me you think you are good enough to have managed getting here without my help.” He sneered. Fernando’s finger inched closer to the trigger. “Come out where I can see you.” Why not just shoot him now? End this all then go and find the Specials. But something pushed Fernando forwards. Maybe the need to see the life disappear from Fritz’s eyes as he planted the bullet in his head. Or maybe just so he could demand answers about why they did what they did to Mark. “There. Good boy. Bernie would be proud.” Fritz smiled as Fernando walked into the light. Fernando still held his gun tightly, never letting it waver from Fritz’s head. The Spaniard took in the room. The radio sitting on the edge of the desk as the desk, emitting the blue light, showed security camera after security camera. Fernando watched as he saw Nico and Lewis rifling through a desk full of paper; Kimi, Sebastian and Daniel ascending to the room where the Machine was held; Jenson brushing his fingers through Kevin’s hair just sitting surrounded by a pile of rubble. “Impressed?” Fritz asked, gesturing backwards to the desk. “It lets me keep an eye on where you all are.”

The click of the safety coming off Fernando’s gun had Fritz sighing.

“You still think you’re going to kill me?”

“Know this.” Fernando bit.

“You don’t get it, do you…” Fritz exhaled, shaking his head. He turned to face Fernando. “There are things about you’re precious Elite you don’t know-”

“-Know everything. Know exactly how this works.” Fernando barked, holding his gun tighter. “Know exactly what is going on.”

“Who told you?” Fritz asked curiously. “Was it Mark? Could he not bare to see his _baby_ in any sort of danger?” He mocked. Fernando flew at him, pressing him up against the desk, digging his gun into Fritz’s forehead. Pure anger fuelling his motions.

“Have no right to say his name.” Fernando spat, grinding his teeth down as his muscles tensed in determination. “How dare you.”

“He was my agent. I have the right to do whatever I want with him.”

“Was never yours.” Fernando shot.

“No. No I suppose he was never anyone’s. You made damned sure he would never leave you and look where that got him.”

“Cannot blame me. Is not my fault.”

“Think about it.” Fritz smiled. Fernando pressed his gun closer to his head. “If you hadn’t have been there what would have ever made him come back? What would have ever made the Elite-?”

“-Stop.” Fernando ordered, forcing back tears. Fritz looked at him in mock sympathy.

“The sad part is he didn’t really love you. He was happier here, away from you. He tolerated you because I told him to. I sent him back to you in order for him to kill you.”

“Are lying.”

“I would say ask him yourself but we both know that’s not possible.”

“Am going to kill you now.” Fernando snaked sourly, pressing the gun tightly to Fritz’s skin. Still the German seemed relaxed.

“Are not.”

“Am.”

“Bernie doesn’t train you to kill in cold blood. Kill for revenge. You know every mission you’ve ever been on has been a setup. Even our attack was a setup. You don’t know half of what Bernie plans, _kid_.” Fernando hooked his finger over the trigger, ready to shoot.

“Good thing am not Bernie’s agent then.” Fernando almost shrugged, satisfaction pouring through him as Fritz suddenly looked a little scared.

“So what now? Kill me and kill the rest of my agents? I can assure you that won’t work. You won’t be able to do that.” Fernando knew Fritz was trying to stall him. It made Fernando laugh.

“Have already killed two. Are two outside. This leaves me two more. Will take satisfaction in killing them all.”

“Are you checking you’ve got the right ones?”

“Is no need to check. Are all the right ones.”

“How will you know?”

“Does not matter,” Fernando bit, readying himself to do the one thing he came in here to do. “Will kill them all. Are all scum for partaking in what you do to him.”

“I’m so glad you think that.” Fritz smiled. It was enough to throw Fernando on the back foot. Enough to give Fernando one more question to ask. Enough to slacken his grip on his gun.

As Fernando opened his mouth to ask the door behind him burst open. It was too late to just send the bullet into Fritz’s head. The German had hold of his arm holding his gun, bending it back behind his back and kicking into the back of his knees, forcing him to the floor. Fernando tried to kick back into Fritz but the older man simply stood one foot on the back of his shin, rendering him motionless. The two Specials moved forwards, one gripping tightly to Fernando’s balaclava, pulling at his hair as they ripped the material away, the other removing his weapons and holsters from his body.

“He’s a sniper, Fritz.” Timo nodded, lying Fernando’s sniper on the desk. Fritz nodded.

“Oh yes. _The_ sniper.” He beamed, leaning close to Fernando’s ear. “You see, this ‘love’ really is a weakness. I didn’t even need to see you to know you, _Fernando_.” Fritz purred in Fernando’s ear. Fernando still struggled against the P-Orsche leader but it as to no avail. “You must have considered, at some point, who our target was, Fernando. Especially if you know how Bernie runs things.” Fritz passed Fernando’s arm to Timo, getting off his leg as Timo forced him to his feet, forcing him to stand. Neel took hold of Fernando’s other arm, both P-Orsche agents with one hand holding Fernando’s wrist and the other pressed firmly into his back. “Did you never consider it was you?”

“Did not care. Being me has got me here, no?” Fernando spat, trying to pull from his human bonds.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Fritz said with his back to the three of them. “Struggling will only make this hurt more.”

“You kill Mark. Now I kill you.” Fernando barked, pulling relentlessly against Neel and Timo’s hold. The sharp sting to his neck cause Fernando’s muscles to spasm for a moment before he fell forwards, panting slightly. Timo and Neel kept him on his feet.

“Timo likes that taser, didn’t Bernie mention?” Fritz asked, retrieving a box from his drawer. He looked up at Fernando who was glaring at him. “You see, Bernie tells us everything about you.”

“Know this.” Fernando snarled. Fritz just chuckled.

“Don’t think we don’t know your weak spots, Fernando. You were our briefing for this mission.” Timo muttered. Fernando went to fight against them again but the backs of his knees were kicked into, forcing him to the floor. “I prefer it when our prisoners are looking up at us, don’t you agree, Neel?” Timo smiled sadistically. Neel just nodded.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this…” Fritz said joyously, still with his back to the group. Fernando swallowed, looking around at his captors and looking for the weak spot. Fritz moved towards him with an empty syringe in his hands. “This should be fun.”

“I’d say,” Timo nodded with a smile. He ripped back the right sleeve of Fernando’s clothes and exposing his arm to the elbow. “Insert here, sir.” Timo finished happily, drawing a black cross on Fernando’s arm. Fritz nodded, placing a stool in front of Fernando and sitting down.

“I think that looks good, Timo. Main artery?”

“Of course. Best result from there, sir.” Timo nodded. Fernando looked round at Fritz with panicked eyes.

“Do you know what this will do to you?” Fritz asked, holding the empty syringe aloft. Fernando sat in silence. “By pushing air into your arteries I will create an air embolism in your blood stream and that will, eventually, cut off the blood to your brain. Do you know what that will do to you?” Fritz asked in a patronising voice. Fernando just blinked at him. Of course he knew what that would do to him. He was desperately looking for his way out. A way that he could turn the needle on Fritz.

“You’ll die.” Timo smiled. “God knows how many times we’ll have to do this. We don’t know how much air we need to put in your blood stream to create the block.”

“But don’t worry about it, Fernando.” Fritz said, holding the needle just by the cross Timo drew on his skin. “We won’t let you go until the job is done.”

“Patrick, Romain and Marc. That’s three of our agents you’ve killed.”

“And after today, we’ll have killed three of Bernie’s.” Fritz smiled triumphantly. Fernando shook his head. Kevin wasn’t dead. For Jenson’s sake Fernando couldn’t and wouldn’t believe it. But the needle was coming closer to his arm. And Fernando was panicking because even one syringe full could be the end. He didn’t know he just didn’t know. He knew he needed a way out of this. Now.

“Such a shame Nick won’t get his revenge…” Fritz shrugged as he lined the needle up. Millimetres from Fernando’s skin. “I’ll let him do what he wants with your dead body.”

Fernando took a risk.

Sending a leg out he kicked into Fritz’s stall, toppling the German backwards. Using his left shoulder he pushed Neel backwards, breaking from his weak hold. Fritz moved towards Fernando again but, through using Timo’s tight hold on him, Fernando pushed to his feet. Grabbing the back of Fritz’s neck Fernando threw him into Timo. With no one holding onto him anymore Fernando pulled the syringe from his arm, dropping it to the floor and cracking the glass under his foot. Timo slammed into his back, pinning him to the floor and trying to hold his right arm out again.

“You don’t think we have spares, Fernando!” Fritz cackled, trying to tend to his bleeding nose as he collected a second needle. Fernando pushed himself to his feet, knocking Timo onto the floor and catching the German’s head on the edge of the desk. Hopping over the wooded surface, Fernando tipped it up, slamming it into Fritz’s chest and trapping both Fritz and Timo under it. Fernando collected up the box of needles, moving over to Fritz and pressing three of them into his carotid artery. Fritz’s eyes blew wide as Fernando pressed each plunger with determination, watching as the air disappeared into Fritz’s bloodstream.

“Do you not think I have a back up, Fritz?” Fernando spat, moving from the room. Fritz tried to call out to him but Fernando wasn’t listening, moving out of the room. He pulled the pistol from the holster attached to his back and reloading the cartridge.

Timo had to be dead; first cracking his head on the desk before being squashed with it. And Fritz would be dead soon. Neel had fled but Fernando felt some solace in letting him go. Neel had found the gun behind Fernando’s back. And left it there, along with the key to the room.

Locking the door to the office and tossing the key down the hall, Fernando moved in the opposite direction to which he had come. He spun the silencer on the end of his pistol, taking out two unsuspecting P-Orsche agents before descending the stairs.

Fernando was after Nick. Then he could leave feeling he had accomplished his mission.

The problem was, now everyone on the P-Orsche was on red alert for him and they had all been given a briefing about whom he was. At least, all the Specials had. Moving swiftly through the building, Fernando let the Elite radio filter back into his head, pushing forwards with a poised gun, taking out anyone who crossed his path.

“Alright, we’ve got the plans, over.” Agent Forty-Four said.

“Good, regroup and get back to Agent Twenty and Twenty-Two, over.” Boullier followed.

“… No, he has a weak pulse but the exertion will kill him, over.” Agent Twenty-Two was relaying to someone different.

“He needs to be brought out of there. The P-Orsche will kill him. We can’t risk loosing another agent. Over.” Domenicali explained.

“Ok, Agent One has the Machine, preparing to evacuate, over.” Agent Three said in a voice full of relief.

“Affirmative. Try and make your way to Agent Twenty. In need of medical attention. Over.” Horner said softly.

“Rodger, over.” Agent Seven said.

“Agent Fourteen, if you hear us have orders to retreat, mission complete.” Andrea said in a soothing voice. Fernando tore out his earpiece, letting it hang over his shoulder. If he wanted to hear them he would but until that time he wanted no distractions. Moving round the building now was strange. It seemed like everyone had a vendetta against him, like they knew he had just killed their leader. Junior’s appeared from nowhere. Agents were a little more disguised in where they appeared from. It was suddenly clear that he was the target. And now the P-Orsche had no orders they were simply moving in to kill.

Taking out as many people as possible, Fernando dove into cover against the wall. He couldn’t request back up because one, he had broken his Elite radio and secondly they were supposed to be evacuating, not going out on avenging missions. And he was running out of ammunition. Fast. Fernando wanted at least three bullets to make sure Nick was dead and suddenly he was down to his last two cartridges. Things were getting dire, and being completely on his own wasn’t helping things. He took a quick scan of the room, noting the Agents barking orders at the Juniors, the lift at the end of the hallway, stairwell he had descended on his right, the Special lingering in the shadows on the right close to the lift, cover ten metres down from him, the advancing P-Orsche Agents, the random bullets of the P-Orsche Juniors (anyone of which could decide to imbed in his body somewhere). There was just chaos in front of him. No order, no organisation. The P-Orsche was lost without their leader. Loading his penultimate cartridge Fernando pressed himself tightly to the wall, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

That was when it hit him.

The Special lingering in the shadows.

It had to be Brendon or Nick. There were no other Specials. And at this point Fernando didn’t care which one it was. Both of them had played their part in him loosing Mark. So both of them deserved to die for it. Besides, if one of them was dragged down here because that was where Fernando was then it couldn’t be too long before the other was on the scene. Fernando knew he could take them both out and return to the Elite. He just needed something to buy him a little more time.

Taking the risk, Fernando did one last surveyance of the area before dashing forwards to the cover just down the hall. The bullets increased as he slid behind the second wall. Miraculously he dodged them all. More orders were barked as Fernando shot down three unsuspecting Agents, only to get a face full of bullets sent his way. At least he now had a clear run to the lift. He checked that the Special was still lurking, unnoticed by his fellow comrades, in the shadows. Fernando knew the Special would be all over him like a rash as soon as he made a dash past him.

Not thinking twice Fernando moved from his cover, running in a straight direction towards the lift. His sudden approached startled most of the Juniors, the young kids doing nothing but watching him move. He took the chance, shooting whoever he needed to as he leaped into the lift, slamming on the controls. Pressing himself against the wall gave him small protection but the Special was advancing too fast. They would get in here before the doors closed. Fernando shot the latch of the panel in the roof before dropping the dead cartridge to the floor and kicking it towards the advancing P-Orsche troops. Some of the Juniors panicked, believing he had thrown a grenade or gas canister at them. The Special kept moving forwards and Fernando lifted himself out of the top of the lift.

Panting heavily his fingers shook as he loaded his last cartridge. It was important now that he used his bullets sparsely. If this was Brendon and not Nick then he definitely needed some bullets to spare. Fernando stood with his back against the lift wire system and looked down the hole he had pulled himself through. He could shoot the Special now. With a direct hit he could catch his temple. Or with some good aim he could send the bullet tearing through his liver and spilling bile into his stomach, corroding his internal organs. Before Fernando had another idea the Special was sending bullets at him, echoing in the metal tube the box was sliding through. Fernando pressed himself to the floor to avoid impact, deciding that doing this quickly would probably be safest.

Fernando moved to take position again once the bullets had stopped. But there was a problem; the Special was coming up. Panicking slightly and with little ammunition Fernando searched fruitlessly for some cover. Of course there was nothing up here. They were on top of a lift for fuck sake. A moving lift at that. And the Special was pulling themselves up. Fernando dove to the floor. The fake death cover was probably the only cover he was going to get. He laid still as the Special got to his feet, turning slowly on the spot to find him.

The gun was lowered.

Fernando held his breath.

“I think I’ve got him, over.”

Fernando’s head spun for a moment.

He forced himself to not think.

“Excellent. Bring him upstairs. We’ll deal with it from here, over.” Another Special said down the radio.

Fernando swallowed, preparing himself.

As the cold barrel of the gun was pushed into his back, Fernando moved. Catching hold of the weapon he slammed it back into the Special’s chest, sending the assailant staggering backwards. Fernando moved to his feet, grabbing the Special’s collar and slamming them to the floor, kicking the radio device from his hand as he tried to scream “Negative.” Into it. With no outside communication available to either of them, the Special reacted. Catching Fernando’s moving fist he forced himself to have the upper hand, hanging Fernando precautiously over the hole into the lift. Without a second to register each other the Special smashed his fist down into Fernando’s face, and then again, and then again. Crushing blood from the Spaniard’s nose, the Special let go of him on the fourth punch, letting his body fall heavily back down into the once pristine lift. 

“Fuck…” Fernando muttered, rolling onto his stomach and trying to wipe away the blood. But it kept pouring out. The capillaries busted in his nose spewing their hold. The clatter of feet behind him let Fernando know the Special had joined him. Reaching for his gun, both safeties snapped off at the same time. Both men were locked, aiming at each other, panting slightly as their eyes finally connected. The Special’s aim slackened momentarily. Fernando could see his eyes wide through his balaclava. The Spaniard didn’t understand. But suddenly there was a tense aim on his forehead and the Special seemed ruffled.

“Who are you?” The Special shot. Fernando forced the words away. Forced the voice away. He wouldn’t crumple at the last stance because of what he could hear.

“Do not pretend you do not know this.” Fernando snarled, wiping under his nose again before adjusting his seated position so he was facing the Special square on. The Special ripped open the lift’s control panel and pulled on a switch, bringing the rising box to a halt.

“Don’t make me ask you again.” The Special dictated. Fernando frowned slightly.

“Have a briefing on me. Should know all about me.” Fernando returned, his confusion showing. The Special held his gun tighter.

“I’ve not been in briefings. They just wanted to see what I was like on the field attacking the enemy.” Fernando shook his head. This wasn’t at all possible. He felt his hand already dropping though. His eyes wide. The Special didn’t like his reaction. “Answer me!”

“I…”

“Tell me who you are! Tell me why I have a fucking photograph of you in my pocket!” The Special yelled, throwing a small piece of paper Fernando’s way. Fernando picked it up, looking down at the picture of himself. He could feel the tears bubbling in his eyes, threatening to fall. No, no, this just wasn’t possible.

But the voice.

There was too much evidence.

“Well?” The Special barked. Fernando looked up at him.

“Mark?” He muttered desperately, clutching the photograph. This threw the Special off balance.

“How do you know my name?” Fernando closed his eyes, splashing tears down his face. He flinched at the sound of the gun but it was just Mark snapping the safety back on. Fernando gasped in shock as familiar thumbs dried the tears off his face. “Why did I need to do that?” Mark frowned at Fernando. Fernando shook his head. This was his nightmare. Bernie and Fritz had thrown him into his worst nightmare. “You need to start answering me now.” Mark barked.

“You will not remember.” Fernando started. His eyes rolled shut as Mark’s fingers began tracing out his face; dancing through his hair, over his lips.

“Who are you…?” Mark said more insistently, though his voice sounded distracted. Almost amazed. Fernando opened his eyes.

“Can I…?” Fernando asked, gripping to the back of Mark’s balaclava. Mark just held his eye contact as the material was slid over his face. What Fernando would have given to regress back two months and haul Mark into his embrace, refuse to ever let go. His fingers gazed Mark’s cheek. Desperate to touch but in the full knowledge he wasn’t allowed to. Mark watched him closely, frown as more tears ran down the Spaniard’s face.

“Who are you? Why do I have a picture of you? Why do I know your face? Why is this hurting me?” Mark fired, moving closer to Fernando. Fernando wanted out. If he wasn’t allowed Mark he didn’t want to be teased by the possibility. He tried to stand; reaching for his gun now would be pointless as he knew he wouldn’t be able to kill him. But Mark held him still, the conflict of emotions so clear on his face. “I should kill you.”

“You cannot…” Fernando breathed, looking at the floor. Mark’s shaky hand pushed into his hair and Fernando melted into Mark’s embrace. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair.

“The P-Orsche want me to.” Mark explained. “And you’re just another F-1 Elite Agent.”

“You have no idea…” Fernando muttered. Mark’s grip became tighter in his hair.

“Then why don’t you start explaining?” Mark stated through gritted teeth. His annoyance and confusion at Fernando coming out as anger. Fernando winced at the pain but relished it also. It meant Mark was here. Mark was still with him.

“You used to be an F-1 Elite agent.” Fernando started but Mark was already shaking his head.

“No. I’ve always been here… Always…” Mark’s voice faltered as he really thought about that. No he hadn’t. He knew he hadn’t always been here.

“Were terminated.” Fernando explained, watching Mark closely. Watching in case the P-Orsche forced Mark into the monster that only wanted to kill him.

“Terminated?”

“It means that the Elite take away everything you know, leave you with only your essentials for living: name, age, life skills, common sense, and remove everything else.”

“Remove?”

“Make you forget memories or anything about the Elite. So if you do go to another team cannot pass on anything about us.”

“Forget memories…” Mark repeated, his fingers tracing Fernando’s cheek. Fernando just nodded. “So where do you fit into this? Did you terminate me?” It felt like someone tearing through Fernando’s chest. How could Mark just not know? How could he just not know anything? All of those years. Twelve years of love for each other and it was just… Gone? Fernando couldn’t bear it. Tears were pouring down his cheeks at an alarming rate. “Why are you crying?”

“Am sorry…” Fernando breathed. Mark cupped his cheek.

“Stop it.” He said softly. Fernando frowned at him.

“W-What?”

“Stop crying. I don’t understand. You have to explain.” Mark said, taking Fernando’s face in both of his hands. Fernando pressed his hands into his cheeks, soaking in the warmth pouring from them, telling him Mark was still alive. “I was terminated?”

“Which is why you do not remember me.” Fernando nodded sadly. Mark just stared deeply into his eyes. He did remember Fernando. Sort of. He recognised him from the picture he always carried around with him. And those words that sometimes echoed in his head that he didn’t really understand.

“…Fernando.” Mark muttered. Fernando’s eyes blew wide in shock. “Fernando…” He reached for Mark, clutching his hands around the base of his neck. “Fer… Nando… Nano…” Mark tested. Loosing himself in the moment Fernando crushed his lips against Mark’s, pulling the Australian into a deep kiss. There was an odd moment where Mark couldn’t seem to decide whether to push Fernando off him or pull him closer. Fernando tangled his hands into Mark’s hair, forcing him closer, pushing their bodies together and stealing back what the Elite had robbed him of.

Mark suddenly pushed him off, clutching at his head. Fernando didn’t understand. He tried to move forwards to touch Mark but Mark retreated, squinting his eyes shut. Fernando didn’t know what to do. Last time Mark had done this he subsequently attacked Fernando, trying to kill him and ultimately killing Sergio. Fernando wouldn’t let that happen again. The P-Orsche had taken Mark once, they couldn’t have him again. Regardless of Mark’s want Fernando threw himself forwards, gripping the Australian’s shoulders.

“Mark, please listen to-”

“-Get off, Fernando.”

“Am not leaving you again.”

“Stop-!”

“-The Elite terminate you. Before this we are in love. Secretly together.”

“Fernando, please-”

“-P-Orsche corrupt you. They break you and send you back to kill me.”

“Enough-!”

“-But cannot kill me because you love me. This is why you cannot kill me and I cannot kill you.” Fernando pleaded, cupping Mark’s face. Mark shook his head, trying to make sense of the bursts of colour and information in his head. None of it made sense. None of it had any context. None of it related to anything.

But Fernando. Fernando makes sense.

“This is too much…” Mark breathed, his eyes tightly shut. Fernando tired to get Mark to look at him.

“Talk to me. Tell me what you remember. Will help.”

“I have… The picture…” Mark said, trying to organise his thoughts. Fernando collects the small polaroid, handing it to the Australian.

“Do not know why but yes. Have the picture.”

“Fernando?” Mark asked like a small child. Fernando smiled down into his face, stroking back his hair.

“Yes, Mark.”

“I… I love you?” Mark queried. Fernando found himself laughing slightly.

“Very much so. Like I love you.”

“Love you…” Mark nodded slowly, processing it. Fernando thought that maybe they could do this. Maybe they could get through this. Leave both Elites and move out to that house in Spain. Then Fernando could explain everything. Make sure Mark always knew what he had forgotten. “I don’t understand.” Mark whined, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Fernando wrapped his arms tightly around him.

“Is Ok.”

“P-Orsche say to kill all of the Elite. Why? Why do I have to do that?”

“Were after me. Am your target.”

“I don’t think I can do that…” Mark muttered, looking at his hands.

“Do what?”

“Kill you. Not now…”

“Not ever. Is Ok, Mark. We are Ok. Will be fine.” Fernando chanted, stroking through Mark’s hair. Fernando felt a strange sense of clarity. It all made sense now. He had Mark back. By some strange twist of fate Mark was here with him. And they could still make this work. They could still be together. Fernando was done with the Elite. He knew how it functioned and he knew he could turn his back without the batter of an eyelid now he had Mark. He would go with Mark to their house in Spain and take however long it took to return his Mark. The Mark he lost a month ago.

“Fernando?”

“Yes, Mark.” Fernando said softly, holding Mark close. Mark took his hips, moving Fernando round until they were facing each other. Mark’s hazel eyes locked with Fernando’s coffee ones. So full of love. So full of support. But so full of confusion. Fernando tried to stroke across Mark’s face except Mark took his wrist and moved it away. Mark placed his hand above Fernando’s heart.

“I love you.” The words were so normal Fernando had fresh waves of tear pouring down his face. He pressed his hand to Mark’s heart.

“Always love you.” Fernando returned, stealing his lips again. He let Mark lead, let Mark explore his lips. It was gentle at first before Mark’s lips came crashing onto his with force and passion, roaming through his mouth Fernando couldn’t stop the moan escaping his throat. And it spurred Mark on. Mark was suddenly lying on top of him, his fingers dancing under Fernando’s shirt and grazing across his hot skin. Mark was trying to force himself to remember. To remember what Fernando was talking about. There was a massive black patch in his memories occasionally filled with a swirl of Fernando’s face or voice or name. And as he kissed Fernando deeply those echoed words returned to his head.

_I love Fernando Alonso._

_I will give my life for Fernando Alonso._

_He is my life, my world and I will protect him until the day I die._

“Mark…” Fernando breathed as he rested Mark and his foreheads together.

Mark scooped him into his arms holding his back as he sat him in his lap.

“Fernando,” Mark nodded, smiling. Fernando pressed their lips together briefly.

“Come away with me.”

“Hey?”

“Forget the F-1 Elite and the P-Orsche. Come away with me and forget them. We spend our lives together now.” Fernando said, slightly pleading. Mark took him in for a moment before kissing him again.

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Yeah. I love you. I want to spend my time with you.” Mark smiled, the words feeling natural even though there were still lots he didn’t understand. He understood Fernando and that’s all that mattered.

The lift door opened. Fernando had his back to it.

“Mark?” Fernando was frowning. But Mark’s eyes were locked on something.

Some _one_.

No words.

Just sounds.

A gun shot.

Fernando was thrown to the floor.

Sitting up as fast as he could he looked around.

He picked up his pistol.

Shooting Nick squarely in the centre of the head.

Before returning to Mark.

In the middle of the lift.

His blood puddling around him.

“Mark?” Fernando asked.

His eyes wide.

His fingers shaking.

He pulled Mark onto his lap.

His digits already covered in the sticky substance.

“Mark!”

Fernando shook the Australian’s shoulder.

Mark blinked at him.

Clutching tightly to Fernando’s arm.

“Fernando…” Mark breathed.

Fernando nodded, clutching Mark’s hand tightly in his own.

Smearing more blood on it.

“Am here. Just stay with me. Will be fine.” Fernando promised, tears dampening his face.

Mark laughed.

A small, breathy laugh.

So Mark.

It forced more tears out of the Spaniard.

“I don’t think so…”

“Do not say this.” Fernando chastened, splashing his tears down onto Mark.

“Do one thing for me…” Mark panted.

Fernando stroked across his face.

“Many things, Mark. We do many things.” Fernando corrected.

“Please, Fernando…” Mark gasped seriously.

Fernando clung tighter to him.

“Anything.”

“Take this out…” Mark breathed, his eyelids rolling shut.

Fernando shook his shoulders drastically.

“MARK!”

“This… Take it… Out…” Mark begged, touching the back of his head.

Fernando frowned, finding the small silver chip.

“Take it…”

Fernando pulled it out.

Mark sighed in relief as all of his memories came flooding back to him.

The Elite.

His friends.

“Thank you, Fernando…” Mark sighed.

Closing his eyes.

Fernando didn’t understand.

“What did I do?”

“Gave me my life back…”

“Mark?”

“Fernando…”

“Do not leave me here alone…” Fernando wept, his voice thick with tears.

Mark opened his eyes and looked up at Fernando.

One last time.

“I love you.”

“Love you more, Mark…”

Fernando forced the words through his tears.

“I’ll always protect you.”

“Do not leave me…”

“Always here, Fernando….”

Mark sighed, pressing his hand to Fernando’s heart.

It may have been cheesy but Fernando broke down at his gentle touch.

Mark encouraged Fernando down to him.

Pressing their lips together.

Fernando felt his lips fall away.

Mark grew heavy in his arm.

“No…”

The tears rolled down Fernando’s face.

He pressed his lips to Mark’s again.

“Mark…”

Once more.

No response.

“Mark, do not… Do not leave me…”

Fernando shook his shoulders.

Mark’s eyes didn’t flutter open.

“Mark.”

He was gone.

“Mark!”

The puddle of his blood evidence enough.

“Mark!”

No flutter of his chest.

“Mark!”

No beat in his heart.

“MARK!”

Fernando sobbed harder than he had even sobbed before.

Before it was all right.

Better than this.

At least he knew Mark was around somewhere.

Still alive.

Even if he couldn’t remember whom Fernando was.

But now he was gone.

The P-Orsche had completely taken Mark away from him.

Mark was dead.

And he had left Fernando all alone.

-

“Jenson, we need to move him.” Daniel said harshly, panic coating his voice. Jenson just shook his head.

“You move him you could kill him. His heart rate isn’t strong enough.” Jenson said for the thousandth time. Daniel hung his head.

“If we stay here we’re all going to die.” Kimi shot, Sebastian standing just off his shoulder.

“Kimi’s right, Jense, we need to go.” Lewis said softly.

“And leave him here?” Jenson bit. “No chance.”

“Jenson-” Nico tried. The Brit just shook his head.

“-No.”

“Alright, enough of this.” Pastor snarled. Moving over to Jenson he lifted Kevin over his shoulder and turned on his heels. Jenson was up like a bolt.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL HIM!” Jenson screeched, holding Pastor back.

“If you are not happy with me carrying him take him yourself.” Pastor shrugged. Jenson scooped Kevin into his arms, moving his ear over his nose to check for breaths. Ten seconds passed.

“He’s not fucking breathing.” Jenson spat, placing Kevin on the floor. His skin was already starting to slightly pale. “Staring CPR. Dan, give me that fucking defibrillator.” Jenson ordered, pulling apart Kevin’s shirt. Daniel dropped to the floor beside him, setting up the small machine as Jenson started on some chest compressions.

“No point in us all standing around.” Kimi stated gruffly. The rest of them turned to frown at him like he was crazy. “Lets get a clear path started so when we get Kevin’s heart back up and running we’re almost there.”

“Alright, Lewis and I will go to the van, select the cleanest path.” Nico said, nodding, and already pulling Lewis down the corridor.

“Ok, Pastor, you see if you can get hold of Fernando. If you can go and find him and drag his sorry arse up to the van.” Kimi instructed. Giving a small salute Pastor disappeared around the corner talking quickly into his radio.

“What about us?” Sebastian asked in a small voice, his eyes glued to Jenson manually pumping Kevin’s heart.

“We’ll cover. Stay close.” Kimi said, pulling Sebastian away in the direction of the others.

“Clear.” Jenson said, pressing the button on the defibrillator. Kevin’s body was shocked, lifting it slightly in the air. Jenson checked his breathing again but there was still nothing. “Continuing CPR.”

But on and on it went and still Kevin remained unresponsive. Jenson was beginning to loose it to panic. He needed to see Kevin’s eyes flutter open. He needed to see him smile. He needed to rid the Dain of the red stain on the side of his face. On Jenson pushed and the more he worked on Kevin the more his muscles screamed at him to stop. But Jenson would never stop until Kevin was breathing and healthy and fine.

“Jenson, let me take over for a moment.” Daniel said softly, sitting beside the medical kit they had open.

“I’m fine.”

“Take a rest, let me do this bit.”

“I’m good.”

“Jenson, you’re not good to him knackered.”

“Why don’t you fuck off, Dan.” Jenson spat before pushing two breaths into Kevin’s body.

Still nothing.

“Shock charging.” The defibrillator instructed. “Stand clear of the patient.”

“Jenson you need to relax.”

“I’m not going to let him die, Daniel.” Jenson shot harshly. “Clear.”

Again and again Jenson repeated the motions. Slowly he was falling out of rhythm, pumping at a slower rate than necessary. It would do nothing in preserving Kevin’s life.

“Jenson, move.” Daniel demanded, shoving the Brit out of the way. Jenson tried to resist him but Daniel forced himself between Jenson and Kevin, taking over as the defibrillator sent another shock into Kevin’s body.

“I’m fine, let me go again.” Jenson stated three seconds after Daniel had begun CPR. Daniel didn’t respond, just pressing on with the procedures he needed to perform. “Daniel, I’m good.”

“Stay where you are. Catch your breath.”

“I’ve caught it. Let me go.”

“No, Jenson.” Daniel sighed, sending another shock into Kevin’s body. If not electrical impulses could be detected or restored the defibrillator would stop helping out. Jenson wasn’t strong enough to keep this going. “Come on, Kevin…” Daniel muttered, sending a worried look in Jenson’s direction.

When the defibrillator stated no shock was necessary both men exchanged a worried look. Leaning back over Kevin’s face Jenson shot Daniel a shocked look.

“He’s breathing…”Jenson laughed, cupping Kevin’s face. “We did it.”

“We still need to get him out of here, Jenson.” Daniel said, panting slightly and packing away the medical gear.

“But what if his heart stops again?” Pure fear was evident all over Jenson’s voice.

“We’ll run really fast with him.” Daniel said encouragingly.

“Ok, Kevin, just hang in there buddy. We’re going to take you home now. You’re safe, Ok? I’ve got you…” Jenson said before moving to pick Kevin up. Daniel grabbed his arm.

“Jense, let me.”

“Daniel, I’m fine.”

“You’re knackered, Jenson. Let me take him, yeah? I’m fine. You take my bag and I’ll get him.” Without leaving time for the Brit to argue he scooped Kevin into his arms allowing Jenson to manoeuvre the young Agent to keep his airway open.

“Come on.” Jenson ordered, moving forwards with his gun tightly in his hand and Daniel’s bag on his back. They passed Kimi and Sebastian on the way who fell into cover behind them.

“Where’s Pastor?” Daniel asked as they stopped momentarily for the area to be surveyed.

“Looking for Fernando.”

“Get him back, we don’t have time.” Jenson barked before running forwards. Daniel and Sebastian exchanged a look. “DANIEL!” Daniel dashed after the Brit.

“Are we really going to leave Fernando behind?” Sebastian asked as Kimi and him followed in Jenson’s wake.

“Do not know whether he is dead or alive.” Kimi shrugged, pinning Sebastian to the wall and shooting a P-Orsche agent down.

“We can’t just leave him here.” Sebastian said with a thick voice. Kimi gave him a sympathetic look.

“Cannot jeopardise the whole mission for him.” That didn’t sit well with Sebastian. He had a massive urge to run back inside and search the building for Fernando himself.

“I want to look for him.” Sebastian said as they approached the exit door. They watched Pastor storm out of it in front of them. Kimi grabbed Sebastian’s bag, forcing him forwards.

“Do not be stupid.” Kimi snapped, shoving Sebastian out into the cool night air.

-

Fernando fell to the ground, unsure how he had managed to get out of the P-Orsche building crying so much. Clutching tightly to Mark’s body Fernando resolved himself to just staying where he was. He curled around the cold body of his lover and cried desperately into his chest. He fucking hated Nick. He had no regrets in pressing the entire last cartridge of bullets into his body. Mark had taken the bullet for Fernando. Mark had died instead of him. Fernando hated everyone for their part in Mark’s death. They were going to leave, walk away. They were going to forget the battlefield and just spend the rest of their lives in Spain. Together.

But now that was no longer possible.

The ground was cold and Mark’s skin slowly began to match it. Fernando couldn’t leave him. Not now. Fernando wanted him back. Needed him back. But that wasn’t possible either. Mark had gone to some place Fernando couldn’t follow. And Fernando could never see him again because Mark was hidden by the unknown. Fresh tears rolled down Fernando’s face as he begged the Australian to return to him. But there was no coming back for him.

He was gone. And that was the end.

“Fernando?” Someone was talking to him. Fernando didn’t care. He clutched closer to Mark, burying himself into the Australian. “Holy shit… GUYS! OVER HERE! SOMEONE COME AND HELP ME!” Fernando should have recognised the voice but he couldn’t. And wouldn’t. He refused to understand who was with him. He just wanted to stay with Mark.

“What is it?”

“Jenson’s going mental.”

“I think we have a problem.”

“Holy mother of god…”

“Is that…?”

“Yes… Yeah, it is.”

“What do we do?”

“Fernando?”

“Go away.” Fernando muttered, his voice hoarse. A soft hand touched his shoulder.

“Fernando we need to go now.”

“No.”

“Fernando, don’t be ridiculous, man.” A harsher hand replaced the first and started to pull him away from Mark.

“NO! FUCK OFF! LEAVE ME ALONE! GET OFF ME! DO NOT WANT TO LEAVE! WILL NOT LEAVE HIM!” Fernando screamed until he was released. He threw himself over Mark’s body protectively, crying desperately, gasping for breath.

“Nice one, Lewis.”

“I’d like to see you do better, Pastor.” Lewis snaked back.

“Guys, enough.” Nico shot between them. Pastor continued to glare at Lewis as Nico crouched beside Fernando, one arm round his shoulder. “Let’s get him to the van, yeah?” Nico suggested softly to the cowering Fernando.

“Are you nuts? Ecclestone will go-”

“-Does that really matter right now?” Nico shot at his teammate, tears running from his eyes. Lewis was slightly shocked to see them there but people often forgot Mark worked with Nico in his early days. Showed Nico the ropes. “Let’s get him to the van, Fernando, come on.”

“Will… Will not let them… H-h-hurt him…” Fernando breathed, holding Mark tighter. It broke Nico’s heart to see him like this.

“That’s Ok. We won’t let them hurt him. But we need to get him back to the van now… Come on, yeah?” Nico encouraged, trying to move Fernando off Mark. It didn’t go well. Fernando refused to be less than a millimetre away from Mark at all times which made it increasingly hard for Nico to help him move Mark to the van. Lewis and Pastor moved ahead to explain what was going on as Fernando stumbled and tripped his way back to the van. With tears blurring his vision and being completely emotionally unstable Nico ended up trying to carry both of them.

By time they reached the others Jenson was a lot calmer, having got Kevin rigged up to the emergency heart monitor and having him conscious with his eyes open. Jenson was stroking through Kevin’s hair as Fernando and Nico approached, Kimi and Sebastian sitting opposite the Dain. Lewis and Pastor disappeared to try and help Fernando and Nico but after a heck of a lot of shouting three of them returned, explaining that Fernando claimed he didn’t need or want anyone’s help. The van was stunned into silence as Fernando appeared, lying Mark gently next to Romain before taking a seat on the floor and moving Mark’s head into his lap.

The van set off after the door had resolutely been snapped shut. The engine rumbled the floor of the truck that had Romain’s head bouncing in an uncontrolled manner. Romain’s body was moved up to the extracted bed Kevin had been using when Kevin claimed he couldn’t take it anymore. Still rigged to the heart monitor, Kevin sat next to Jenson, not caring who saw their fingers linked together. Sebastian’s head was resting on Kimi’s shoulder, the Machine and the plans at the opposite end of the truck.

“Fernando…” Nico tried softly, approaching Fernando with a damp cloth. He reached for Fernando’s hand, buried in Mark’s hair.

“Do not…” Fernando muttered, eyes still locked on the closed doors. Nico left his hand, dragging the cool cloth across Fernando’s face instead. No one wanted to ask how Fernando had ended up with Mark’s dead body. No one had the guts to try and break into Fernando at the moment. Kevin sent a sympathetic look up at Jenson who had silent tears running down his face. Sebastian just felt empty, no matter how close he sat to Kimi. Pastor and Lewis exchanged a look, not really knowing what to do or say. It seemed Fernando had set the pace of tranquil silence and no one wanted to break that.

“Do you want to…” Nico said, his voice just over a whisper, offering Fernando the cloth. Fernando looked down at it, taking the light grey material in his dirty hands. Without asking if it was what Nico had meant, Fernando set about cleaning Mark’s face, removing every stain of blood, dirt or grit that had covered his soft face. No tears fell. Fernando had cried himself out. Everyone just watched as Fernando methodically cleaned Mark’s face.

Removing the trauma.

Removing the history.

Removing the attack.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Days passed. Weeks passed. And then suddenly those weeks became years. The last attack at the P-Orsche seemed so long ago sometimes Ecclestone believed he had dreamt the whole thing. Fritz had been replaced, of course, but communications between the P-Orsche and F-1 Elite were fractured. Brendon and Neel, the only remaining P-Orsche LMP-1 Specials, took control of ranks and Brendon refused to ever do business with Bernie again. The last remaining stain from Fernando’s revenge. Eventually word got round about Fernando’s homicide and that spooked some other organisations into simply giving Bernie what he wanted. It drove others away.

Pastor ended up progressing into the Black Elite, eventually running it when Major Lopez stood down. He was harsh on his troops which sometimes worked. But there was a new protocol in place and everything was run in the name of Romain Grojean. Pastor made it his pledge to never let Romain’s name fade away. To always make sure people remember how he sacrificed himself for the success of the mission and the safe return of the nine other agents. That attack would always be a dark day in the Black Elite’s history, but Pastor would remind his troops of the importance of teamwork. He also helped with the development of advanced technical uniforms that allowed the option of self-sacrifice with a lower fatality rate, thus making the fatality rate in missions lower on average.

Lewis and Nico continued as teammates. The events of the P-Orsche attack showing them they couldn’t deal with this life without each other. Nico had spent the entire day in Lewis’ room after they returned. And then they day after that also. Lewis had fought with Lieutenant Lowe and forced him to give Nico a chance to collect himself. Ever since Lewis and Nico had been inseparable. Whether they actually got together whilst at the Elite was an unsure fact, but it was safe to say that once they had left they moved in together and ended up adopting a child. Mark Rosberg-Hamilton had so many nationalities Lewis never knew if he was going to get a Finnish or English or German or Italian or Spanish answer from his child.

Kevin was absolutely fine after the attack. Apparently without Jenson’s CPR he would have been dead even if they hadn’t moved him. A debt Kevin could never repay to Jenson. Kevin took it hard when Jenson eventually left the Elite. And it was only two years later Kevin was walking out the door after him. Since the attacks were no longer arranged for the F-1 Elite it was harder and the risks were sometimes higher. The F-1 Elite slowly began to loose it one hundred per cent success rate and it was slipping. Something needed to be done and everyone was looking at Ecclestone to stand down. But Kevin had to leave because the nightmares that shook him to the core still woke him up every night. And he needed Jenson’s voice to remind him it was just a dream.

Jenson had been waiting for Kevin. He had set up a house all ready for Kevin to move straight into. The Brit had found his parents again, had reconciliation with them and explained how wonderful Kevin was. His Dad was most enthused to meet the man who put the spark back in his son’s eyes but unfortunately John passed away before Kevin returned to Jenson. It had been a rough year with Jenson having to live with his Mum for most of it because he couldn’t deal with loosing his father and not having Kevin to make everything better for him. Luckily, due to a soft spot they had found in Lieutenant Boullier, they could still keep in contact with each other. Jenson had been over the moon the day Kevin arrived home. They had barely been apart since. Married within six months with a second surrogate child on the way. John Romain Button was with Jenson but Jenson was much more excited about Kevin’s baby on the way.

Kimi had taken Sebastian with him when he went to Romain’s family. Considering Kimi refused to explain where he was going and Sebastian snuck in the car Kimi hired to travel to France he had little choice. It had broken Sebastian and the German refused to return to the Elite. When Kimi had said he was still going back Sebastian had called him a monster, claiming untrue things before slamming the door in Kimi’s face and declaring he never wanted to see him again. The next three years without Kimi had been a disaster. Sebastian stopped eating and started drinking, a lot. His family took him to therapy but none of it seemed to work. The only cure was Kimi. Sebastian needed to know Kimi was alive. He couldn’t bare the thought of continuing his life without the Finn.

It was Jenson leaving that opened Kimi’s eyes. Just seeing how desolate Kevin became because of the absence of Jenson made Kimi fear for Sebastian. He tried to push it from mind, focusing on Kevin and trying to make Kevin feel better but Kevin made it abundantly clear that he was Jenson’s. And that Sebastian was Kimi’s. It was enough for Kimi to walk through the door and head straight for Germany. He was disgusted by the waste of a human being Sebastian had become. Furious at his parents for letting him. But after a hard year of difficult work and constant encouragement Kimi saw streaks of his Sebastian back.

Fernando never changed. He refused to talk, refused to work, refused to move, refused to eat. The Elite had months of a static Fernando that had Andrea begging on his door. But Fernando blocked them all out. He remembered Jenson once telling him that Kevin made the Brit feel whole again. Fernando knew he was spot on. Because without Mark he was nothing. He was missing a part of him. He bargained with Andrea to let him go to Mark’s funeral. Promised he would leave his room, do his work, as long as the Italian let him go. It was a huge mistake that terribly backfired. Fernando completely shut off to everything, spending day after day staring at the blank walls.

It was Andrea who brought him back. Andrea showed him the love he had thought he lost. And he cherished Andrea. Loved the way the older man’s arms looped around him at night. The gentle brush of his lips on his forehead. The way Andrea let him speak of Mark as if he were still around. Andrea knew that Fernando would never love him like he loved Mark. But Andrea was happy to fill the void. Happy to keep Fernando afloat.

Fernando never went out on another field mission again. Jules Bianchi took his place as a field agent as Fernando remained back at the Elite, doing the upmost minimum he had to.

The bubble eventually popped and even Andrea began to loose Fernando. He was spiralling backwards and Andrea couldn’t work out whether it was because of where he was or something that happened one day to Fernando that made him regress. Andrea suggested he got himself out, went into a fresh scene. Fernando accepted Andrea’s offer to accompany him and they left for France. The house Mark and Fernando brought together was sold and funded a small cottage on the French Riviera for Andrea and Fernando.

It still wasn’t working.

Two and a half years they made it. Pushing the problem under the carpet. Andrea pretending he didn’t see the marks on Fernando’s wrists. Andrea pretending he didn’t see the small amount of food Fernando ate. It got too much one night when Andrea lifted Fernando’s shirt to see his ribcage rather than the caved abs that used to reside there.

Andrea yelled.

Fernando shrugged.

The last time Andrea saw Fernando he was walking out in a jumper that was seven times too big for his tiny frame, in search of a hotel. Andrea sometimes looked out across the French Riviera and wondered what they might have had if he had made Fernando talk about his problems. Not ignored the days Fernando sat at the windowsill and just sighed, completely disconnected from the world. Fernando eyes never looked fresh or full of colour since Mark was killed. He always looked like he’d just finished crying.

 _“No, have not.”_ Fernando would say when Andrea asked him if he had been. _“Why cry about insignificant things?”_ Thinking back, Andrea couldn’t remember Fernando ever having cried since that day. He sometimes played Fernando’s phone number through his fingers, wishing he could have the courage to call him and ask him to come home. But it had been eight months since Fernando left and Andrea didn’t think he could deal with hearing Fernando’s dead voice on the end of the phone. Perhaps Fernando wasn’t even in France anymore. Maybe Fernando had just drifted away on the wind, never truly existing with the other mortals.

Because when Mark died, Fernando died.

It was really as simple as that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone feels like trying to work out what I was spelling with Kevin's code at the beginning of the mission then the numbers correspond to a letter on a phone keypad. I hope that makes sense. Thought you may be interested. 
> 
> The finally chapter will be an epilogue.
> 
> *14*


	15. We Slammed The Door On The Past, Now Why Can't You Walk Away?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you really want,   
>  Do you really want me?   
>  Do you really want me dead, or alive to torture for my sins?   
>  Do you really want,   
>  Do you really want me?   
>  Do you really want me dead, or alive to to live a lie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up. I'm throwing another tissue warning on this one.

**_EPILOGUE_ **

**_Eight Years After The Final P-Orsche Attack_ **

****

“Andrea?” Andrea turned from hanging up his shirt at Fernando’s soft voice. Fernando only used that voice for one reason. It was never anything else. And Andrea almost expected it today. He had checked the date as he left for work that morning. He was almost reluctant to leave Fernando alone after he had realised. But he had to work because someone had to bring some sort of income into this household. Even if they were swimming on Fernando’s F-1 Elite payment Andrea couldn’t bear to sit and stare at the four walls all day. And his solid income allowed them to keep Fernando’s payment as a reserve.

Fernando stood quietly, pressed against the doorframe. Andrea hung his shirt, closing the door of their wardrobe and turning to face Fernando. No words were needed; Andrea just held his arms open. Fernando gravitated towards him like a magnet, gripping tightly into the back of the Italian’s shirt. Andrea tried to ignore how small Fernando felt in his arms, focusing on leading them over to the bed.

“How are you?” Andrea muttered, kissing the top of Fernando’s head. Fernando just shrugged, burying deeper into Andrea’s embrace. Andrea stroked the hair out of his face. “Fernando.”

“Do I need to answer?” Fernando sighed exhaustedly. Andrea pulled him closer.

“Did not sleep at all last night, did you.” When he was met with silence he knew he was right. Andrea laid them down, pulling Fernando closer. Had it really been eight years since Mark had been killed? To the day? It felt like so much less time had passed. “Is Ok to cry, Fernando.”

“What is the point in crying?” Fernando muttered back, voice muffled by Andrea’s shirt.

“Is Ok to feel sad…”

“Have had all day to feel sad.” Fernando muttered, kissing into Andrea’s neck. The Italian’s hand gripped tighter into his hair.

“Fernando-” Andrea tried, but Fernando was already straddling him, pushing his hands up the back of Andrea’s shirt.

“-Know what I want.” Fernando said, pulling Andrea closer to him. Andrea pushed back on Fernando’s shoulders, giving them both time to think. They had been here before. One occasion in the past Fernando had accused Andrea of trying to take advantage of him. On this date Fernando’s emotions always ran high and there was the potential for them to flit extremely quickly.

“Just stop a moment.”

“Have had all day to stop.” Fernando bit, pushing Andrea’s hands off his shoulders. “Am bored. Am bored of this stillness.” He continued, undoing the Italian’s shirt. “Want to just… Not have to think for a while…” Fernando sighed, eyes glued on Andrea’s chest. The Italian watched him closely as Fernando’s fingers traced his muscles.

“Do you need to talk to me about something?” Andrea tried. Fernando didn’t answer, instead dipping down and catching Andrea’s nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around the tight ball of nerves. Andrea couldn’t help his reaction. Every time he was with Fernando it felt like it could possibly be his last. He couldn’t help but cherish every moment, emphasis every feeling. “Fernando…” Andrea moaned lightly, his head rolling back as Fernando continued to attack his body. He knew the only way he could get Fernando to breath for a moment was to restrict him. Because he knew Fernando needed to think about this. Especially today. Catching Fernando’s shoulders as he slid down his body, Andrea rolled them over, pinning Fernando to the bed. “Stop…” Andrea panted.

“Need to not…” Fernando sighed, closing his eyes. Andrea cupped his cheek, almost willing a tear to roll down it.

“Is Ok to cry-”

“-Do not want to cry.” Fernando shot, shoving Andrea backwards. He had swung his legs off the edge of the bed, glaring at the floor, when Andrea’s arms wrapped tightly around him. Fernando had no intention of getting up and leaving. He needed Andrea close.

So he could pretend he was Mark.

“Do not do this.” Andrea muttered softly, kissing the back of Fernando’s neck, tracing a pathway up to his ear.

“Want to not think…” Fernando repeated, succumbing to the fantasy that it was Mark kissing him, not Andrea. The fingers tracing his shoulder were Australian, not Italian. Andrea knew what he was doing. Andrea always knew what he was doing.

“Will keep talking.” Andrea muttered, running one hand down Fernando’s side. Fernando deflated against him.

“Do not…”

“Can not keep doing this, Fernando. Need to move on.” Andrea pleaded for the umpteenth time. Fernando dropped his head, keeping his eyes closed. He could feel closest to Mark through Andrea. He could pretend he was living the life he always wanted to with the Australian. But Andrea was persistent to bring Fernando back to reality. Fernando shook his head.

“Please…” His voice was broken and small, vulnerably. Andrea felt his heart sink. He had known for ages he could never replace Mark. He would never truly fill the void in Fernando’s heart. But he though he could be a good second choice; help Fernando forget the horrors of the past. He did not expect to become a fill in, a compromise to help Fernando pretend. He couldn’t keep doing it. But he loved Fernando unconditionally and that always made it harder not to let Fernando live in his head.

“We go out. Take a walk. Get some dinner.” Andrea said softly, gliding a hand across Fernando’s stomach. He bit back his own tears as he could vaguely count out Fernando’s ribs, something that, eight years ago, the Spaniard would have never let happen.

“Already ate…” Fernando muttered, letting Andrea’s fingers fuel his illusion.

But the fingers were suddenly gone: Fernando was sitting on the bed alone.

He opened his eyes slowly, frowning at the sudden loss of warmth behind him. Andrea was standing in front of him. Locked jawed, pursed lips, fists clenched at his side. Fernando’s frowned deepened. He didn’t understand what had gotten Andrea so worked up. He would have tried to sooth the Italian but Fernando feared that would do more harm than good at this particular moment.

“And what have you ‘already’ eaten, huh?” Andrea spat causing Fernando to flinch slightly at the harshness of his tone. Fernando looked at the floor.

“Have already eaten. Am fine. Not hungry.”

“Have not.” Andrea snarled. Fernando couldn’t look up at him. He knew Andrea knew he was lying. “Are going to get some food.”

“No.” Fernando shook his head. Andrea took a step closer.

“No?”

“No…” A harsh shove on his shoulders sent Fernando flying back onto the bed. Andrea ripped up the hem of his shirt glaring down at Fernando’s once toned torso. His lower ribs were starting to protrude from his skin. Andrea hadn’t realised it had got as bad as it had. He hadn’t notice Fernando’s clothes were drowning him.

“When is the last time you eat?” Andrea barked, glaring down at Fernando. Fernando shrunk into himself.

“I eat.”

“Not enough!” Andrea dropped his shirt moving across the room away from Fernando. Fernando lent up on his elbows. “You would never have let this happen a few years ago! Cannot see what you are doing to yourself!”

“I eat.” Fernando pressed. Andrea shook his head, not caring that hot angry tears were pouring down his face.

“Are wasting away, Fernando. All for someone who is not even here!”

“I eat, Andrea. Do not need you telling me how to live my life.” Fernando turned his back to the Italian, staring at the wall.

“Are not living. Are simply passing through.” Andrea seethed, trying to make Fernando see sense. The fuse that had been waiting to blow on Andrea was pushed over the edge with the skeletal version of his lover in front of him. “Have to forget, Fernando. Can not stay in the past.”

“Am not.” Fernando sent, folding his arms.

“Want you to get a job.” Andrea said slowly, sitting next to Fernando. Fernando scoffed a laugh at him.

“Do not want a job.”

“Need one. Need you to remember who is around you. When is the last time you call Jenson? Or Kimi?” Andrea tried softly, placing a hand on Fernando’s shoulder. Fernando shook him off. He didn’t want to call either of them because they got to walk away. Those couples were still together and fighting strong. Fernando couldn’t stand their happy voices.

“Do not need anything. Am fine.” Fernando stated, rising to his feet. Andrea grabbed his arm as he passed, trying to hold him back. But he found something much worse waiting for him. Fernando tried to pull his arm free and shake his sleeve down as Andrea wrestled to pull it up. These cuts were new, fresh. Andrea shook his head.

They weren’t there this morning.

“When do you do this?” Andrea asked in a forced calm voice. Fernando tried to pull his arm free but Andrea held on tight. “When, Fernando?”

“Does not matter-”

“-Tell me when.” Andrea couldn’t take his eyes off them. They had started to heal but weren’t nearly healed enough to be old. He had pushed this under the carpet before because they had never looked that bad. Just one cut, here and there. A cut that Andrea knew Fernando could cover up about if he confronted him about it. But the news ones he couldn’t. They were one thing and one thing only. Fernando pulled his arm from Andrea’s grip, pushing down his sleeve. “So you are Ok for me to come home and find you like this?” Andrea asked, trying to keep his rage in check. Fernando simply shrugged.

Andrea lost it.

“Is fine for you for me to come home and find the man I love dead, yes?” Andrea spat harshly, Fernando closed his eyes. Visions of Mark dead body filled his mind. He shook his head. None of this was fair. “You need to stop now. Is enough.”

“Enough?” Fernando asked in a quiet voice.

“You get a job and you get help. You stop this.” Andrea seethed, pointing at Fernando’s wrist. “Do not even pretend to me this is the first time, Fernando, Ok? I see. I see them all.”

“Will not get a job and do not need to get help.” Fernando said quietly. Andrea gripped hold of his shoulders tightly.

“You do, Fernando! I do not take no as an answer.”

“Am a grown man, Andrea. Make my own decisions.”

“Not in this. Cannot see what you are doing to yourself! Are not eating, are hurting yourself! Are you trying to kill yourself?”

 _Yes._ Fernando didn’t answer. Just held Andrea’s eye contact.

“Well?”

Still no answer.

“Fernando you have to stop this!” Andrea tried again. Fernando moved from the room with Andrea right behind him. “Are scaring me. Do not want to leave you alone in the house in case I come back to the worst!” Andrea forced as they moved down the stairs.

“I ask you for one thing today.” Fernando said, shaking his head. Andrea spun him round as they neared the bottom of the stairs.

“Cannot keep giving you this. Am Andrea… Not Mark.”

“What has changed? Until now you were fine. This is how we work.” Andrea grabbed Fernando’s arm shoving his sleeve back to reveal the hatching of cuts on his wrist.

“This changed.” Fernando pulled his arm back. “Feel like am loosing you!” Andrea admitted as Fernando moved through to the kitchen. He watched as the younger Spaniard moved around, collecting his things. Phone, keys, wallet, jacket, shoes. Andrea didn’t understand. What was going on? “Are slipping away, Fernando.” Fernando barged passed Andrea heading for the front door.

“Was never yours, Andrea. You know this.” Fernando muttered as he opened the door. Andrea’s eyes widened as he realised what Fernando was doing. He dove forwards, wrapping his arms tightly around Fernando’s shoulders.

“Close the door.” Andrea muttered, holding Fernando tighter.

The door remained exactly where it was.

“Fernando, do not be ridiculous. Want to help you.”

“Can only help me in one way. You say you cannot do this anymore.”

“Cannot, Fernando…” Andrea closed his eyes, willing Fernando not to leave him. Fernando shrugged again, pushing out of Andrea’s arms. “Fernando, get back in here!” Andrea tried as Fernando moved over to his Ferrari. The car that hadn’t left the drive since he parked it there a year and a half ago. “Fernando. Is ridiculous now.” Andrea said, moving towards the car as Fernando got in it, slamming the door. “Fernando-” He was cut off as the engine roared into life. “FERNANDO!” Andrea found himself sprinting down the road in pursuit of the red car, ignoring the screaming pain down his side. He couldn’t loose Fernando like this. Not today. Not today of all days. Especially when he had found out the extent of Fernando’s problems.

But as Andrea fell forwards, clutching at his knees to catch his breath, he knew he was too late. The brake lights of Fernando’s car disappeared into the distance as he turned off their little road and onto the main one. It was over. Andrea had lost him. But maybe it had been over for a while. Maybe Andrea had just pushed on because he couldn’t bear the thought of loosing Fernando. And with the Spaniard in such a fragile state he wanted him back so he could protect him from the world. Andrea sunk to the floor, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes and cried. There was nothing more he could do. Fernando had gone God knows where. And all Andrea could envisage was Fernando, in the jacket that was miles too big for him, dwarfing his once muscular body.

Fernando stopped the car after driving about half an hour. He pulled up beside the Riviera, looking out at it. What if he just walked into it? Kept walking until the cold water wrapped tightly around his body. Made his clothes heavy and pull him down. Freeze his muscles into a spasm so he couldn’t swim anymore. And then he could sink slowly, and forget how to breathe…

Peaceful. That would be peaceful.

 

The first time Fernando tried to kill himself, he was stopped. A fisherman wrapped him in blankets and took him back to his car, giving him a change of clothes and sitting with him until he was sure Fernando was Ok to drive on alone.

And even then he was reserved to let the mysterious Spaniard go.

\- - -

**_One Year Later_ **

 

Fernando cupped the water between his hands and dowsed his face with the cool water. He shook his head. Stupid. He had been stupid to think that would help. He had gone to visit Mark’s parents. Such a stupid plan. How did he ever think that was going to end well? He was lucky they had moved to Paris to be close to Mark. It had taken him months to track them down. Ironically they lived about ten minutes from the hotel Fernando had been staying at. So Fernando had put on his smartest suit, the one he had got during his two-week stay in Aix-en-Provence a month ago, and headed down the scenic route to Mark’s parent’s house.

A plan would have probably been helpful. Approaching the door he felt like an arse. How would it sound if he just suddenly appeared at their door and said: ‘Hi, I know it’s been nine years since your son died but I thought I’d finally introduce my self. I’m Fernando, his lover. We were going to move in together but he got killed before we could.’? Fernando nearly backed out there and then. Would have done if the door hadn’t opened and a woman had appeared.

She was nice enough, Mrs. Webber. Insisted on Fernando calling her Diane as soon as she found out Fernando had been Mark’s friend. Alan, Mark’s Dad, had a much more somber personality. Fernando didn’t know whether that was because of Mark’s death or if he had always been that way. The two of them welcomed him inside and got him some croissants and tea, all of which Fernando ate sparingly. Fernando hated the fact he couldn’t just tell them how much Mark had meant to him. How he had planned his whole future around and with Mark. But how could he tell them that? What if they didn’t know Mark was gay? How would that taint the last memories they had of their son? Fernando couldn’t do it to them. So he lied. He lied about how he met Mark, about how he knew Mark, about what had really happened to Mark. But he did not lie when he said he had been with Mark for his last breaths. Alan had thanked Fernando for being there with his son during his final moments. _At least,_ Alan had said, _he was with someone he knew and knew he was close to._

When they invited Fernando to go and visit Mark’s grave with them, he should have said no. The flowers he had brought with him he had handed to Diane, but she suggested he should take them to Mark. _It will be nice for him to see a friend._ She had said. And Fernando couldn’t refuse. But he should have done. He was not ready to be confronted with a grave. A stone monument that reiterated Mark was never coming back to him. Mark was in a place that he could not follow. Fernando had damn near lost it there and then. But he remained quiet. He placed his flowers on Mark’s grave and he watched Alan and Diane grieve their son. What a different day this could have been. They could have been celebrating their ninth wedding anniversary. Alan and Diane could know so much more about him than his name and his face. He could have been introducing a grandchild. Jenson had left a message on Fernando phone announcing the arrival of Sofia Britt Button. A message Fernando hadn’t had the heart to delete or the heart to return the call.

Fernando left Alan and Diane alone, thanking them for bringing him with them, before retiring back to his hotel penthouse suite.

Fernando looked down at his vague reflection in the rippling water filling the basin. Drowning was still his most peaceful option. Cutting his wrist hurt and he had to be at the lowest low to manage to do it. Fernando ran his fingers through the cooling water. Could he just… Do it now? Hold his head under the water until no more bubbles popped from his nose? His eyes fell on the bath. It would be easier in there. He could just drift off, staring at the LED lights in the ceiling. He could light some candles, make it relaxing. And then slide his head under the glossy water and breath out.

“You’re not really very good at this, are you.” A voice laughed lightly. Fernando froze. His eyes open wide. That wasn’t possible. Not at all. Mark was dead. He had seen his grave. Mark wasn’t here. Mark couldn’t be talking to him. “Fernando?” Fernando shook his head rapidly. No, no, no.

“Are not here.” Fernando said firmly.

“No. I’m not.” Mark agreed. That had Fernando frowning.

“Do not understand…”

“I’m not here, Fernando. I’m dead. You know that.”

“Yes…” Fernando’s voice broke, trying to force back the tears.

“But you need me.” Fernando turned to see a hazy version of Mark. He was there, but he wasn’t there. Mark moved closer to him. “I’m not here. But you need me to be, so I am.” Mark smiled lightly. Fernando shook his head.

“Does not make sense… Am not crazy.” Fernando pushed.

“Not at all.” Mark nodded. Fernando shook his head.

“Cannot be here.” Fernando stormed through to the main room. Mark was right behind him.

“You want me here, mate.”

“Do not.” Fernando stopped, closing his eyes and willing Mark to leave him alone.

“Don’t lie, Fernando.” When Fernando opened his eyes again Mark was sitting in front of him on the edge of the bed. “We both know that’s not true.” Without a second thought Fernando rushed over to his balcony, throwing the doors open wide. He was so high up being in the penthouse suite. Twenty stories up. Mark appeared beside him, looking down also.

“Will jump.” Fernando spat at him, gripping tightly to the safety wall. Mark just shrugged.

“Can do. It won’t make me go away.”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Fernando screamed at him. Mark shook his head as the wind whipped around them.

“You don’t get it. You can’t just yell at me and I leave. You want me here and until you really don’t I won’t go anywhere.” Mark explained. Fernando shook his head, climbing up on top of the concrete wall protecting him from the fall.

“Cannot just do this to me.” Fernando barked, glaring at Mark standing beside him atop the wall.

“You’re doing it to yourself.” Mark said softly. The Australian looked down at the drop below them before turning back to Fernando. “Is this why you need me? You don’t have the guts to do this yourself so you need me to give you a little push?”

“I…”

“Hey,” Mark said softly, moving closer to Fernando. “I miss you too you know. Really badly.”

“Really?” Fernando asked, caught in Mark’s eyes. The wind wrestled round them again, unsettling Fernando’s footing slightly.

“Really badly. I miss just being us. And this sucks, really sucks that we have to be apart.” Mark nodded slowly. His hand came up to cup Fernando’s cheek but there was no feeling behind it. Mark was somewhere Fernando couldn’t reach him. Couldn’t feel him.

“Are you a ghost?”

“Sort of.” Mark laughed, covering up his disappointment at not being able to touch Fernando with his smile. “You got older.”

“Has been nine years.” Fernando pouted, happy tears rolling down his face.

“Don’t cry, Nano. It’s Ok.”

“I miss you.”

“I know.”

“Need you.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Mark reached for Fernando’s hand and although he couldn’t actually touch the Spaniard Fernando held on tightly. “You know. We’re just a step away.” Mark muttered softly indicating with his head. Fernando looked down at the drop beside them. Just one step. “I know you can do it.”

“Why can you not just be here?”

“There is only one way we get to end this together.” Mark lent close to Fernando, as if trying to kiss him.

Just one step.

“Do not leave me.”

“Right beside you.” Mark nodded, gripping Fernando’s hand tighter as they turned to face the drop.

Just one step.

“I love you, Fernando.” Mark insured, looking over at the Spaniard. Fernando just nodded. Taking a deep breath.

Just one step.

Someone knocked at the door.

“Ignore it.” Mark muttered, eyes glued on Fernando.

Fernando nodded.

Just one step.

But the knocker knocked again.

“Mr Alonso?” Fernando turned back at his name.

“Mark?”

“It’s Ok, Fernando. They’ll go away when you don’t answer.” Mark said lightly, trying to pull Fernando’s attention back to the drop.

“Do not leave me.”

“I’m right here.”

 

The second time Fernando tried to kill himself, he was stopped. On hearing that Mrs. Webber had come to return his phone Fernando had moved to the door and thanked her for it. When he returned to the balcony, Mark was gone.

Maybe he had imagined it all.

\- - -

**_Six Months Later_ **

****

The dead autumn leaves crunched beneath his feet. A cool breeze rippled through the trees and set the wind chimes singing their delicate song. Slightly discorded but it worked. It was peaceful. It made the trees seem alive with the grief they surrounded. His long black coat rippled around his legs, smacking into his smart suit trousers. He always dressed smartly to come here. Normally in the same suit he wore that first time. His sunglasses covered his bloodshot eyes as a tear ran down his cheek.

This was the place Fernando allowed himself to cry.

He moved swiftly over towards Mark’s grave. There was a tree nearby that he would sit under if people were already visiting Mark. He tried not to stay in contact with Mark’s parents but they made him let them know where about in France he was staying. Just so they knew. Fernando never left France. Leaving the country would be too far away from Mark and he couldn’t bear that separation. But since the first time Mark had appeared Fernando couldn’t bring himself to leave Paris. He had to stay. Because that way Mark knew exactly where he was to find him.

Mark hadn’t stopped visiting. Fernando had restarted cutting his wrists every time he left.

“I knew I’d find you here.” Fernando sighed a breath of relief as Mark’s voice filtered across to him. Standing in front of Mark’s grave with Mark’s ghost beside him was slightly surreal but Fernando had got so used to Mark accompanying him almost everywhere he almost expected Mark to appear. “Especially today.”

“Now are visiting your own grave. Is this not weird for you?” Fernando teased, turning to look at Mark’s translucent form. Mark just shrugged.

“Been meaning to come down for a while. Mum’s done a good job here.” Mark nodded, folding his arms against the cold breeze. Fernando just shook his head, laughing.

“What do I owe the pleasure?” Fernando smiled.

“Am I not just allowed to come and visit you on our anniversary?” Mark smiled.

“Cannot believe it was today…”

“We would have been together about twenty years this year…” Mark mused.

“Miss you…” Fernando said, fighting back the tears. But Mark knew him too well. The pained look on the Australian’s face as he tried, but failed, to dry the tears on Fernando’s face. He turned away, frustrated, and changed the subject.

“Romain wants you to thank Kimi for him.” Mark said. Fernando’s soft smile fell off his face. “He’s been meaning to thank him for going to see Marion all those years ago but he hadn’t found the opportunity.”

“Do not speak with Kimi anymore.”

“I know. I told Romain that. He was hoping you might change your mind.” Mark said cautiously, watching Fernando closely. Fernando folded his arms.

“And what do I say? ‘Hey, Kimi, have not spoken with you for about seven years. By the way, your dead ex-teammate, Romain, says thanks for explaining to his family that he loved them. How do I know this? Mark asked me to pass on the message. Yes, the Mark who is dead. He comes and talks with me every now and then and he mentioned it the other day.’”

“I suppose that does sound a little crazy…” Mark shrugged.

“A little?” Fernando laughed.

“Don’t shoot the messenger! I was just passing on the message.” Mark said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Tell Romain am sorry but I cannot help him.”

“Have you seen them?”

“Who?”

“Marion and Sacha?”

“Possibly. But I do not see many people around.”

“That’s because you only leave your hotel to come here.”

“So?”

“It’s a bit sad, don’t you think, mate?” Mark said softly. Fernando scoffed at him.

“Says you, visiting your own grave.”

“Touché.” Mark nodded. “But I also came here to see you, so I win.” Fernando stuck his tongue out at him. There was silence for a little while where Mark just observed Fernando closely. “Are you still cutting your wrists?” Fernando felt himself deflate at Mark’s question.

“You know this.”

“Don’t you think there’s a better way to do that?” Mark mused lightly. Fernando frowned at him.

“Better?”

“I don’t like seeing you hurt yourself, Nano. There has to be a better way for you to do this.” Mark said sternly.

“You do not mind I do it?”

“I don’t want you to cut yourself, no. But I know you want to be with me as much as I want to be with you.” Mark explained. It was nice for Fernando to have someone not yelling at him to get help and stop trying to kill himself. Mark accepted it was what Fernando needed to do.

“Thank you…” Fernando muttered, tears brewing in his eyes.

“For what?” Mark frowned.

“For letting me do what I need to.”

“I don’t think anyone can change your mind now, mate.” Mark shrugged. “Besides, I miss you too much to try and stop you.”

She had seen him down here before. Recognised him mostly through his attire. But he always visited the same grave. And he was always alone. That made her sad. And she knew that interrupting someone’s grieving was not something she should do, but the man always broke her heart. She could see from here he was talking to the grave. Grieving, pretending whomever it was was here. Looking down at the grave of her fiancée in front of her she nodded. He had been right. It was time for her to move on. Pressing her fingers to her lips and pressing her kiss onto the top of the grave she nodded, pulling her dark coat closer to her and moving towards the man.

“Mark Webber…” Fernando’s head snapped round at the woman approaching. He sent Mark a look over his shoulder but Mark shrugged. He didn’t recognise her either. “How did you know him?”

“Uh, I, erm…” Fernando choked, making the woman blush.

“Sorry, I’m Dasha, Dasha Kapustina.” The woman smiled, extending her hand. Tentatively Fernando shook it.

“Fernando Alonso.” Fernando nodded, turning back to Mark’s grave. Dasha stood beside him.

“Was he your friend?” Dasha asked softly. Fernando pushed his hands deeply in his pockets.

“Yes…” Fernando muttered.

“Just a friend?” Mark asked, frowning. “Why don’t you tell her the truth, Fernando?”

“Why explain it all to a stranger?” Fernando shot back. Mark folded his arms, turning away.

“Explain what to a stranger?” Dasha asked, frowning as Fernando was staring in front of him at nothing.

“Do not worry.” Fernando sighed, turning to walk away. Dasha grabbed his wrist.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I had no right to just come over here whilst you’re…” Dasha shook her head, loosing her words. Fernando frowned at her.

“See, women are too emotional. Let’s go, Fernando.” Mark said, walking away. But Fernando stood still, waiting for Dasha to finish. “Fernando?”

“I’ve seen you here before. You always come alone and you always look like the world is beating you…” Dasha muttered, letting go of him. “I’m sorry I came over. It’s just… I hate seeing you looking beaten. And I know that’s weird because I don’t even know you but… I wondered if I could… Get to know you…” Dasha tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, staring at the floor as she spoke. Fernando was completely taken aback by her. She wanted to make him feel better. And for once that offer didn’t feel like the worst thing in the world.

“Who are you visiting?” Fernando asked, shocked by how calm his voice sounded. She looked up at him with a small smile in her eyes. She really did have beautiful eyes. Tear-filled beautiful eyes.

“My… My ex-fiancée.” She nodded slowly. Fernando swallowed harshly.

“Oh…”

“Has been six years… Freak car accident.” Dasha shrugged. Fernando caught the tear rushing down her cheek.

“Is Ok. Am sorry I ask.” Fernando said gently, pulling his hand back from her face in confusion as to why he reached for her. He turned, moving away, but Dasha stayed with him.

“You should have shaken her when you had the chance.” Mark chastened from his left. Dasha appeared on his right, falling into step beside him.

“Do you know the last thing he says to me?” Dasha said gently.

“Some gushy crap about finding love after death.” Mark said, pretending to be sick. Fernando fought to ignore him.

“He told me that grieving him wasn’t worth the pain.” Dasha said gently. Mark continued to make vomiting noises from Fernando’s other side. “I think six years is enough to let him know I loved him. But he’s right. He is gone now and I need to move forwards.” Fernando could see clearly in her eyes what she was asking.

The scary thing was he didn’t disagree with her.

“Has been nine years…” Fernando admitted. Mark frowned at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Is a long time.” Dasha nodded, touching Fernando’s shoulder.

“Yes it is a long time. Fernando, get in the car and leave this tag-along here.” Mark pressed.

“Would you like to grab a coffee?” Fernando asked lightly. Dasha gifted him with a beautiful smile.

“I would love that.” She nodded. Fernando felt his lips stretch into the expression he hadn’t achieved in a very long time.

“Good.”

“So, that’s it?” Mark asked, rushing alongside Fernando as the Spaniard lead Dasha to his Ferrari. “Some random girl comes along and you forget about me?”

“Could never forget you, Mark.” Fernando said sadly after he shut Dasha’s door. He moved around the car. “I love you.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.” Mark spat. Fernando shook his head.

“Do not understand it. She is… Different.”

“She is strange, Fernando.” Mark bit. Fernando shook his head.

“Am sorry, Mark.” Fernando said, genuinely sadly. “Will see you later?”

“Doubt it.” Mark shot, folding his arms. Fernando shut his car door, concern covering his face.

“What?”

“Why would I come back if you’re moving on?” Mark asked. Fernando panicked. He couldn’t loose Mark. Not again.

“Am not moving on.”

“Sure. Enjoy your coffee, Fernando.” Mark snarled, walking away. Fernando wanted to chase after him.

“Everything Ok?” Dasha asked, appearing on the other side of the car. Fernando watched Mark walk away until the Australian couldn’t be seen anymore.

“Fine…” Fernando muttered, feeling broken inside.

When Mark didn’t appear that evening, Fernando panicked more.

Two weeks later, when Mark still hadn’t reappeared, Fernando was loosing it.

Dasha was noticing.

But Dasha was staying with Fernando now.

They were basically in a relationship.

Fernando blamed her for loosing Mark.

So much so, he locked himself in the bathroom one evening.

His razor broken and the blade sitting on the edge of the sink.

He needed Mark back.

 

The third time Fernando tried to kill himself, he was stopped. He blamed Dasha. Dasha had hammered on the door until he opened it. Dasha had seen the cuts.

But that night Mark had appeared. Fernando had been sat on the balcony. Alone. The drop not high enough to kill him. When Mark appeared beside him he thought he was dreaming.

“Alright, Fernando. I won’t leave you.” Mark had said softly. Fernando craved his arms.

“But you have to leave her.”

\- - -

**_Three Months Later_ **

 

Fernando had tried to break up with Dasha many times. He had yelled at her, ignored her, told her this wasn’t working. But she refused to leave. She told him he was feeling guilty because of her fiancée. But she kept reminding him her fiancée was dead and he would have wanted her to move on. Dasha remanded loyal to him and told him, really, he didn’t want to leave her. Mark would laugh at her then, tell Fernando she was delusional. Fernando couldn’t deal with everything. He needed Mark. He couldn’t live without Mark being in his life. He didn’t need Dasha but she wouldn’t leave. Eventually Mark had told him to stop trying. Mark could see Fernando’s need to be with him. Heard it in their late night conversations when Dasha was asleep and they tried to plan the best way for Fernando to go with Mark.

So Mark allowed Dasha to stay. Only because she wouldn’t leave.

“You’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” Mark would ask, perched on the bedside table as Fernando fucked Dasha. It was worse because Fernando knew he was right. Whenever he was intimate with Dasha he was thinking about Mark. How he needed her to be Mark. Her delicate arms felt unsecure wrapped around him. He craved for Mark to push him into the mattress, making him forget his own name. Strong arms that could lift him up against the wall as Fernando moaned into his neck. It was monotonous, and didn’t help that Mark liked to remind him of it every time he was with Dasha.

_“You don’t like that. I can see it in your eyes.”_

_“Why don’t you just tell her that was shit?”_

_“Does she feel as good as me?”_

_“Of course not. Don’t even try to kid yourself, Fernando.”_

_“Well, I do that better than she is…”_

_“Oh God, this is embarrassing…”_

_“How do you let her do that to you?”_

_“You’re thinking about me again.”_

_“Don’t call my name instead of hers.”_

_“Don’t do it.”_

_“Well done. Good luck explaining that.”_

“Why do you do that?” Fernando asked one morning as Dasha was in the shower.

“Do you know how pretty you are when you sleep?” Mark had returned smoothly. Fernando blushed.

“Mark.” Fernando pushed. Mark sighed.

“Look, I lost you once to this tramp. I won’t do it again. I know deep down you know you don’t love her. Because you have me. I just want to keep actively reminding you of that, mate.”

“Is very distracting having you there, watching…” Fernando admitted awkwardly. Mark laughed at him.

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

“Just…”

“Fernando, I can’t stop. You know you were pretending Andrea was me. Every time. Even if I’m not here you’d do it.” Mark shrugged.

“So… What or who is Mark?” Dasha asked, walking out the bathroom wrapped in only a towel. Something Fernando should have found very attractive. Fernando looked at Mark for some help, his mouth dry. Mark simply waved at him.

“Did not say Mark.” Fernando tried again. Dasha raised an eyebrow at him.

“Look, you’ve been trying to get rid of me and now you’re calling men’s names when you climax.” Dasha sighed.

“Does this mean she’s leaving?” Mark asked hopefully. Fernando sighed, getting to his feet.

“Dasha, are not having this argument again.”

“No we’re not.” Dasha agreed.

“So, no leaving…” Mark said disappointedly.

“Did not say Mark.” Fernando pressed.

“But I know you don’t want to be with me.” Dasha nodded. Fernando sighed.

“Then why not leave. Find someone who wants you?”

“Because _you_ want me. Deep down. And one of these days I know you’re going to get over this guilt about my ex-fiancée and then we will just click. I know it.” Dasha said desperately. “Are the best thing that has happened to me, Fernando.”

“Give me a break…” Mark rolled his eyes, getting to his feet. “Fernando, tell her you love me.”

“Cannot…” Fernando muttered, passing Mark a sorrow-filled look. Dasha just sighed, moving around Fernando to get dressed.

“You can. Tell her you love me then she will piss off. It’s the only way I can see you getting the message through to her.”

“Is not as simple as-”

“-Oh,” Dasha interrupted, getting Fernando’s attention snapped back to her. She threw him his phone. “An Andrea called.”

“Still am not going to Monaco, Dasha.” Fernando stated, yet again. Dasha rolled her eyes, folding her arms. Fernando didn’t want to go to Monaco because it was too close to Andrea. And he wanted to stay in Paris with Mark. Dasha wanted to move to Monaco to get away from their past.

“You are.” Dasha said, pulling on her clothes. “You need to.” Sighing, Fernando moved out onto the balcony, listening to Andrea’s message.

“What did he want?” Mark asked, sitting up on the safety rail as Fernando hung up the phone.

“To talk. Make sure am still alive.” Fernando sighed.

“Talk about what?”

“Sounds like he wants me to move back in with him.” Fernando ran his hands over his face.

“What are you going to do?”

“Do not know…”

“Do you want to move in with him?”

“Is only one thing I want, Mark.” Fernando said softly. Mark beamed at him. “Can you get off there?”

“Huh?”

“Off the rail.” Mark frowned down at his seat.

“Why?”

“What if you fall?”

“I’m already dead, Fernando.” Mark laughed. But he hopped off the rail anyway, mirroring Fernando’s position.

“Drowning is peaceful…” Fernando shrugged.

“Dasha is on red alert at the moment. If you tell her you want to go for a swim she won’t let you out of her sight.” Mark sighed.

“Could jump right now?”

“You know she’s watching you, right?”

“Could be really quick…”

“That’s not going to work, mate.”

“Could cut-”

“-No. We’ve already ruled that out.” Mark snapped. Fernando nodded sadly. “She’s feeding you…” Mark observed. And he was right. The once boney form of Fernando was now returning back to his old self. His cheeks were still slightly hollow but Fernando was almost back.

“I tell her am not hungry but she refuses to leave until have finished.”

“So she’s force feeding you?” Fernando just shrugged.

“Let’s just jump.” Fernando said after a moment of silence.

“It won’t work, Fernando.”

“Go now. Right now.”

“Mate-”

“-Ready?”

“Fernando?” Dasha asked from the balcony doorway. Fernando closed his eyes. Dropping his foot to the floor.

“Told you.” Mark said sadly.

“Yes?” Fernando asked back, turning to face Dasha.

“What did Andrea want?”

“To talk.” Fernando shrugged. Dasha nodded, pushing in earrings.

“Ok. We’ll stop at his on the way down to Monaco.” She smiled. “Come on.” Dasha held her hand out to Fernando. Fernando looked to Mark.

“I’m right behind you.” Mark promised with a nod.

 

The fourth time Fernando tried to kill himself, he was stopped. He had planned to drive his car off a cliff. It seemed simplistic. Mark agreed that it was a good idea. But Dasha refused to get out of the car.

And even though Fernando was happy to take his own life, he couldn’t take hers as well.

\- - -

**_One Month Later_ **

 

They had been in Monaco for a month. Celebrated Christmas and New Years and started the fresh year. Dasha had talked Fernando through proposing to her and, against his will, they were planning a wedding. Andrea had started visiting once a week, normally when Dasha was out at work. Andrea could tell that Fernando didn’t want to marry Dasha but Fernando was so closed off from him Andrea couldn’t know anything anymore. He tried to talk to Fernando but the Spaniard always gave one-word answers and kept looking away distractedly, as if there was someone else in the room.

But there never was. Andrea always checked.

Dasha was out at work for another three hours. Andrea had just left. Fernando wondered if Andrea understood his goodbye. Maybe he’d done so well over the past month Andrea didn’t know it was the last time. Fernando didn’t care. He had said goodbye to them all. He had had enough. And Dasha was throwing wedding stuff at him, talking about babies. The sooner Fernando got out of here the less people he could hurt. He had even sent Mark’s parents a letter. Because he felt he owed them an explanation. With Mark’s help they had drafted it and sent it. Fernando had instantly felt relieved.

But now there was no one left to say goodbye to.

Fernando chose the bathroom. That was where Mark had first appeared, it seemed like the perfect closure. Mark stood in the bathroom doorway as Fernando set up. His arms folded and a pained frown on his face. Fernando sighed catching his expression in the mirror.

“I know this is not how you want me to do this.” Fernando muttered, snapping his new razor to obtain the blade, cutting his finger in the process. The first few drops of his blood splashed down into the sink.

“I’m not happy about it, no.” Mark admitted, watching Fernando closely. He was wearing the suit he always visited Mark’s grave in. He rolled up the white sleeves to his elbows.

“Can you check my will is in the other room please?” Fernando asked as he rolled up the material. Mark nodded, disappearing for a moment.

“Coffee table.”

“Good.”

“Why not write a note?” Mark asked curiously. Fernando turned to him.

“Everything I need to say has already been said or is written in the will. No need for a note.” Fernando explained. Mark nodded, moving into the room and looking down at the blade between Fernando’s fingers.

“And there is no other way-?”

“-Have discussed this time and time again, Mark…” Fernando muttered. Mark nodded sadly.

“Just… Do it quickly.”

“Will try.”

“Just one cut…” Fernando reached for Mark’s face, even though he knew he couldn’t touch him.

“Ok, Mark.” He nodded slowly. Mark tried to take his free hand in his own.

“I’m right here. I’ll stay with you.”

“Forever.” Fernando nodded.

“I love you.”

“Love you more…”

“Te amo, Fernando.” Mark sighed, resting their foreheads together. Fernando nodded, moving away from Mark slightly. The sharp pain splintered his skin. Fernando gritted his teeth, forcing himself to push down on the throbbing pulse point harshly. Mark stood behind him the entire time, muttering sweet nothings into his ear. Fernando relished it. Collapsed into it. Fernando’s wet eyes opened in shock as he felt Mark’s hand on his hip. Felt Mark’s breath on his neck. He turned to the Australian, seeing he was more opaque now. Fernando reached for his face, circling his fingers into Mark’s hair. It felt half formed. But Mark was beaming at him. Tears rushing down his face. Mark pushed him against the sink, tracing his face, his jaw, catching the tears and setting them into his skin. Fernando broke the gap, pushing onto his toes and gripping into Mark’s hair as their lips met. Fernando’s body sung in delight at finally feeling Mark. Finally, after ten months, they could feel each other. It felt like a lifetime had passed.

“Hi…” Mark muttered in a tear-broken voice, brushing the hair out of Fernando’s face. Fernando laughed through his own tears, pulling Mark closer, forcing no gaps between them. He just wanted to feel Mark. Almost ten years had passed apart and finally the wait was over. Mark cradled him close, laughing lightly as Fernando attacked his body with his lips.

“Miss you…”

“It’s Ok, Fernando.” Mark smiled, wiping his face dry. “We’re together now.”

“Will never leave you again.”

“You’re mine for eternity.” Mark promised. He linked his hands with Fernando’s.

“Love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.” Fernando shook his head, latching his lips to Mark’s again.

“Come on…”

 

The fifth time Fernando tried to kill himself, he found his peace.

Dasha returned from work to find the bloodshed. Fernando’s limp body at a funny angle squashed between the bath and the sink where he had fallen, his blood decorating the white tiles and staining his shirt. She had been sick, calling Andrea and blaming him in hysteria. Andrea had gone into shock. The police were called and Fernando’s body was taken away, the blood-covered razorblade found on the floor. Fernando had hit a main artery. There was nothing left to do. He would have bled out in about thirty seconds. He was gone.

Two weeks later Dasha discovered she was pregnant.

 

An immense crowd turned up to Fernando’s funeral. Jenson, Kevin, Kimi, Sebastian, Andrea, Pastor, Marion and Sacha, Lewis, Nico, the kids, Alan, Diane, Dasha. The Elite was given the day off to attend, and most did. Nico Hulkenberg turned up with a small child in his arms. His new son. Fernando Hulkenberg was promised he would never face the terrors his namesake did.

Not a dry eye was in the house.

Fernando and Mark attended too. Obviously unknown to the other mourners. Fernando was shocked at the turn out. He didn’t think the people he had ignored for a decade would care enough about him to see him put to rest. Mark held Fernando tightly throughout the whole ceremony.

“Do not want to come back.” Fernando said thickly as his coffin was carried out to Mark’s. Mark just nodded.

“Is there anyone you want to say goodbye to?” Mark asked softly. Fernando simply shook his head.

“They have all said their goodbye. We can watch from above.” Fernando sniffed. Mark dried Fernando’s eyes.

“You know if they need you you can come back anytime.”

“Want to go now…” Fernando nodded as the tears rolled down his face. Mark nodded, walking them back to the place they could be together for the rest of time.

It was never announced that Fernando killed himself. It was put down to an unknown cause. But everyone knew. Especially when, due to Fernando’s will, the Spaniard was buried with Mark. And Dasha received the letter that Fernando had written her. Explaining everything. Explaining exactly who Mark was and exactly why he had killed himself. Because he hated the fact that she might believe it was her fault.

Dasha never remarried but Andrea moved in with her, looking after Fernando’s baby and making sure the young boy knew how amazing and wonderful his father was. The young boy had been a splitting image of Fernando. Andrea and Dasha moved back to Paris and Mark Fernando Kapustina was taken to his father’s grave everyday. Andrea had the unfortunate task of explained why the little boy’s father was buried with another man but the child was given the truth.

And the child knew exactly how his father had taken his own life for the man he loved.

 

**_~End~_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this work. I've finally finished one! :P 
> 
> I sincerely hope that no one thought I went a bit farcical in this part and I hope no one was offended by the topics I covered. I would have placed a warning at the beginning of this chapter but, to me, that was telling you what had happened before you had even read it. There were, however, warnings added to the work so I hope I covered myself enough with that. 
> 
> I have to thank you all for reading this work. Even if you never commented or left kudos but carried on reading to the end it really does mean the world to me. I put a lot into my works that get posted here and it is always nice to see them appreciated. So thank you so much for sticking by me on this one. I know at times I've not made it the easiest thing to read but I am so grateful you have pushed on to the end. Don't worry. I have nothing planned that ever gets as sad or dark as this currently. I'm slightly shocked I've managed to do this myself if I'm honest :P
> 
> One last note, I am planning on writing some more for this universe I have created. There were a couple of scenes I wanted to write in here but, as you will understand once I have posted them, they couldn't go in the main work because they would have spoiled what I wanted to achieve. With this in mind, I wanted to open up the opportunity for you to suggest any scenes you would like me to write. They can be set before, during or after the main work. Just leave me a comment with your suggested scene below and I will see what I can do : ) Three have already been planned so if I don't respond to your request that's because I'm already writing it :P
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for sticking with me and reading this. I hope you enjoyed it.  
> :')
> 
> *14*


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